THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


WICKED  CITY 


BY 


GRANT  EUGENE  STEVENS 

AUTHOR   OF 

'Blinding  Blasts" ;     "Answer  to  Don  Carlos,"  etc. 


CHICAGO 

1906 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress 
the  year  1906,  by  G.  E.  STEVENS  &  CO. 
in  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress 
Washington,  D.  C. 


Copyright  applied  for  at 
Stationers'  Hall,  London,  England. 


152C177 


2>e&!catet> 

to  the  citizens  of  Chicago 
who  are  helping  to  redeem  theif  beautiful  city 

and  to*  those  who  suffered 
during  the  great  carnival  of  crime. 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


HIDDEN  SENTENCES 

AND 

HIDDEN  WORDS. 


YOU  FIND  THEM? 


DISCOVER  SECRETS 
HELD  BY  MYSTERIOUS  CLOCK. 

PRIZES 

Piano — 2  Karat  Diamond  Ring — Summer  Cottage 
— "  Toe  Pad"  Carriage— Gold  Watches,  Etc*    Free. 

See  pages  37,  H3,  141,345 


THROUGH   THE    ALLEYS   AND    BY-WAYS 


A  SWEET  FACED  CHILD  OF  THE  POOR. 
(5) 


WICKED  CITY. 

"WICKED  CITY" 

PART  I. 

AS    THE    CHIMES   TOLD    THE    HOUR. 

CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 

A  Strange  Interview 17 

In  An  English  Prison 29 

The  West  End  Tragedy 31 

The  Escape  from  Prison 33 

A  "Boozing  Ken" 36 

The  Mansion 145 

"Number  49"  in  Chicago ;..  149 

Sentiment  True  and  Otherwise;  Dorris,  the  Compact 154 

News  from  London 162 

Tells  of  a  Strange  Death,  Will  and  Clock 167 

"Wicked  Trick  of  Wicked  City";  The  "Bowery"  Against  the 

"Levee"  176 

At  Sunny  Side 181 

A  Clever  Scheme 184 

The  "Mysterious  Clock"  at  Ivy  Cottage 191 

The  Wind  from  the  East 193 

Uncontrolled  Passion  198 

The  "Break  OTJay  Gambler"  and  Wage  Earners 201 

The  Story  Teller  and  the  Watchers:  True  Hearts  and  True 

Love 203 

A  Threat;  The  Jester's  Bells 207 

Dorris  Confides  in  Her  Mother 209 

The  Fatal  Hour  Arrives 212 

Mrs.  Waite's  Agony 215 

The  Clock  Divulges  a  Secret 218 

Happiness  Within;  Misery  Without;  A  Last  Appeal;  As  the 

Chimes   Told  the   Hour 221 


WICKED  CITY. 

"WICKED  CITY" 

PART  II. 

MERCHANTS'  SIEGE  WITH  BANDITS. 
CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 

A  West  Side  Gambling  House;   Penniless  and  Desperate 223 

On   the   Bridge 227 

A  Knight  of  the  Road 228 

The   Underground   Den 232 

A    Bold    Proposition 236 

Bandits  of  "Wicked  City" 239 

Dividing  the    Spoils 240 

Louis  Palmello  of  Cuba ;  "Break  O'Day  Retreat" 243 

Two  Grooms  and  One  Bride 246 

The  Abduction  and   Pursuit 250 

Clattering  Hoofs   on  the   Highway 256 

A  Heroic  Attempt  to  Save  the  Innocent  from  Dishonor 

The    Marshall    Murder,    etc 262 

"Long  and  Short"  Versus  the  Police  and  Merchants 265 

Wicked  City  in   Grip   of   Bandits 268 

A  Heaven  With  But  One  Angel 277 

Suspects  in  the  "Dragnet" ;   The  Rat-Pit 274 

The  Victim  of  a  Plot 279 

Rometto  and  Alex  in  Disguise;   "Billy  Skutes  of  Herkimer"  282 

The  Veiled  Mystery 287 

Dey  Blin'  a  Fold  Me  an'  Backa  Me  Offa  de  Boat 290 

The  Rescue;  A  Wedding  in   Prison 299 

The  Trial;   A  Rift  of  Silk 296 

Mounted  Bandits;  Mandate  of  the  Chief;  Call  Only  a  Wagon 

from  the  Morgue 298 


WICKED  CITY. 


CONTENTS  CONTINUED. 


PAGE. 

In  London 303 

"Number    49's"    "Double" 306 

A  Brutal  Guard ;  The  Rusty  Key ;  At  His  Mercy 308 

The  Great  Chicago   "Dragnet";    Proof   Positive 310 

On    the    Crank 312 

Voice  from  the  Grave,  "COMMIT  NO  SIN" 315 

"Moral    Degenerate"    317 

The    Arrest   324 

A  Double  Punishment  Fits  the  Crime 328 


MORAL. 

The  wages  of  sin  is  certain  disaster  and  premature  death. 
If  you  read  this  book  understandingly  it  will  prove  this  beyond 
a  question  of  doubt. — Pub. 


10  WICKED  CITY. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


A  sweet  faced  Child  of  the  poor. 

A  peaceful  spot. 

Gordon  in  the  underground   den. 

Crossing  the  river  of  despair. 

As  the  chimes  told  the  hour. 

A  striker  in  despair. 

"I'm  countin'  my  monies." 

Children  of  the  "slums." 

A  jail  on  wheels. 

Proving  Chicago's  redemption. 

An  every  day  scene  on  State  St. 

The  poor  "street  boys." 

A  floating  gambling  palace. 

From  Playground  to  Grave. 

Playing  on  the  verge  of  Hell. 

Tasting  Hell's  broth. 

The  price. 

Palaces  of  the  "Red  Light"  district. 

Types  of  residents. 

"Suicide  Bridge." 

"Custom  House   Place." 

Officers  traveling  through  troublesome  times. 

The  river  redeemed. 

A  chunk  of  Chicago's  atmosphere. 

The  white  woman's  burden. 

Misfortune  on  wheels. 

"Sister  to  the  Ox." 

The  wanderer's  home. 

Fortune's  Smile. 

A  City  tenement. 

"Brother  to  the  Ox." 

Just  arrived. 


WICKED  CITY. 

LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

CONTINUED. 


11 


Like  a  picturesque  spot  in  Sicily. 

A   musical  hall. 

Visiting'  Chiefs. 

A  unique  business. 

Merchants  and  Bandits. 

Poor  Children's  play-grounds. 

Battling   for   redemption. 

Fire  Horses. 

Fire   Department. 

Fire. 

The  abduction. 

In  the  shadows  of  the  old  church. 

The  Crook  and  the  "Mysterious  Clock." 

How  the  world  receives  a  new  idea,  etc. 


LIST  OF  PRIZES 

TO  BE  AWARDED  TO  LOCATERS  OF  HIDDEN 
WORDS  AND  SENTENCES. 


PIANO. 

GENT'S   DIAMOND   RING,    (2)    KARATS. 

SUMMER  COTTAGE. 

LADY'S   DIAMOND   RING. 

A    DOUBLE   SEATED   TOE    PAD    SURREY. 

GENT'S   GOLD  WATCH. 

LADY'S  GOLD  WATCH. 

SILVER   SET. 

SEE  PAGES  37,  113,  345. 


THE  "WICKED  CITY." 


Chicago  has  for  years  been  considered  the  crime  center  of 
the  world  and  there  was  a  time  when  that  impression  was  not  al- 
together unwarranted.  The  city  was  infested  with  blacklegs,  crooks 
and  confidence  men  of  all  sorts,  working  their  evil  almost  at  will 
upon  the  high  and  the  low,  the  resident  citizen  and  the  stranger  as 
well.  And  among  the  business  men  there  were  men  in  all  branches 
of  trade  and  profession  whose  methods  were  worse  than  those  of 
the  common  thug  for  they  worked  under  the  guise  of  respectability 
and  virtue.  Nor  were  these  all.  Among  our  city  fathers,  those 
who  were  placed  in  their  positions  as  guardians  of  the  public  good 
and  sponsors  for  the  city's  virtue,  were  men  whose  villainies  and  be- 
trayal of  their  trusts  made  these  conditions  possible  and  even 
padded  their  own  purses  by  winking  at  crime  and  turning  a  deaf  ear 
to  the  clamorings  of  the  better  classes  for  at  least  honest  methods. 
Crime  ran  rampant;  holdups  by  thugs  and  unprincipled  "business 
men"  were  daily  occurrences,  and  the  uninitiated  man  was  as  likely 
to  loose  his  purse  in  the  pursuit  of  his  legitimate  business  as  when 
visiting  the  "red  light"  district.  Possibly  Chicago  earned  its  name, 
The  Wicked  City. 

But  there  were  causes  for  this  and  excuses  too.  The  city  had 
in  sixty  years  grown  from  a  backwoods  trading  post  to  a  world 
metropolis  and  the  regulation  and  governing  of  the  millions  of  souls 
crowded  within  its  limits,  the  segregation  and  control  of  its  vicious 
classes  were  as  impossible  for  the  inexperienced  public  as  the  com- 
prehension of  an  abstruse  proposition  in  higher  mathematics  for  an 
infant. 

Mr.  Stead  wrote  his  book  and  called  Chicago  a  "Pocket  edition 
of  Hell ;"  but  should  he  visit  the  city  again  he  will  find  that  the  devil 
and  his  imps  have  had  some  hard  falls.  Chicago  today  has  a  wide 
awake  and  efficient  police  system.  Its  merchants  in  all  branches  are 
organized  for  the  cleansing  of  the  city.  The  Civic  Federation,  for 
the  betterment  of  its  political  condition.  Commercial  associations 
and  Merchants'  clubs,  for  the  elevation  of  its  mercantile  and  pro- 
fessional standing.  ^  These  have  finally  given  the  city  good  clean 
government,  and,  aiding  the  police  have  ridded  the  city  of  its  finan 
cial  and  mercantile  holdup  men. 

But  there  has  been  a  power  even  greater  than  these.  The  press. 
Without  it  their  efforts  would  have  been  futile.  For  not  only  have 

13 


WICKED  CITY. 


<;<>KI>0\     IX    THE     HAT    PIT    OF    THE     UNDERGROUND     DEN. 


14 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


WICKED   CITY  REDEEMED.  15 

they  furnished  publicity  for  the  city's  many  evils,  awakening  the 
public  to  their  city's  shame  but  their  reporters  have  aided  the  police 
in  unearthing  crime  in  all  its  phases.  They  have  been  responsible 
for  the  fixing  of  crimes  to  the  guilty  ones  and  the  exposure  of  their 
guilt.  In  fact  there  is  no  better  detective  service  on  earth  than  that 
furnished  by  the  enterprising  Chicago  press. 

All  these  forces  working  hand  in  hand  are  rapidly  making  a 
new  Chicago.  Exposures  of  evil  of  all  sorts  in  high  as  well  as  low 
circles  are  continuous.  God's  pure  sunlight  is  being  poured  into 
some  of  the  foulest  haunts  the  world  has  ever  known  and  the 
festering  evil  is  slowly  but  surely  being  cleansed  and  purified  by  its 
rays.  But  crime  is  not  yet  dead,  for  new  conditions  have  to  be  met 
with  newer  methods  but  dishonest  business  men  and  grafting  poli- 
ticians, the  thug  with  his  sand  bag  and  the  confidence  man  with  his 
oily  manner  eke  but  a  precarious  living  in  the  new  Chicago. 

The  foregoing  remarks  are,  perhaps,  out  of  the  ordinary, — 'but, 
— "The  Wicked  City"  is  a  "New  Idea"  book  by  a  "New  Idea"  man. 
Mr.  Stevens  has  studied  for  years  the  phase  of  life  with  which  this 
book  deals  and  his  work  shows  a  full  knowledge  of  the  subject 
differing  widely  from  the  vaporings  of  the  stranger  "sociological 
student"  who  visits  the  city  for  a  few  days  and  then  inflicts  the 
result  of  his  observations  upon  the  public  in  the  form  of  an  essay. 

The  "Wicked  City"  is  an  odd  story,  well  plotted,  and  written 
in  an  unusual  way,  ably  mingling  fact  and  fiction.  Mr.  Stevens  is 
essentially  a  business  man,  and  the  fact  is  apparent  in  his  work  for 
it  is  his  idea  to  give  his  readers  a  story  of  living  breathing  people 
connected  with  well  authenticated  facts  of  Chicago  history  with 
which  the  whole  country  is  familiar,  only  making  necessary  changes 
of  the  names  of  the  principal  characters".  He  makes  no  attempt  at 
idealistic  rhetorical  flights,  and  eliminating  all  unnecessary  descrip- 
tion, through  dealing  with  a  phase  of  life  with  which  few  people 
are  familiar.  It  is  a  real  story  of  real  life  in  the  real  true  Chi- 
cago. 

For  this  reason  it  is  of  the  utmost  interest  to  all  classes  of 
people ;  merchants,  business  and  professional  men,  in  the  city  and 
out  of  it.  It  is  of  interest  to  all  those  interested  in  Chicago  for  any 
reason  whatever,  whether  their  interest  be  pecuniary  or  simply  one 
which  every^American  has  in  our  most  representative  American  city, 
hustling,  striving  Chicago.  To  those  having  no  interest  in  Chicago 
or  the  facts  with  which  the  book  deals,  it  is  simply  an  extremely 
clever  story. 

Mr.  Stevens  is  a  descendent  of  the  historic  Lord  Edward  Ger- 
ald Fitz-Gerald  and  is  related  to  many  of  the  nobility  of  England 
today.  But  he  is  proud  of  the  fact  that  he  is  American  born  and  a 
successful  business  man  of  Chicago.  And  he  is  successful  in  that  he 
is  conducting  a  business  of  over  $5.000,000.00  yearly  without  having 
sacrificed  either  principle  or  sentiment, 


16  WICKED  CITY. 


AS  THE  CHIMES  TOLD  THE  HOUR. 


PART  L 


AS  THE  CHIMES  TOLD  THE  HOUR. 
A  "MYSTERIOUS  CLOCK." 


CHAPTER  L 

A  STRANGE  INTERVIEW. 

Robert  E.  Long,  alias  "Number  49,"  escaped  convict,  well 
dressed,  well  disguised,  is  speeding  through  Chicago  comfortably 
quartered  in  suburban  train.  A  newsboy  drifted  aboard.  A  grim 
but  humorous  smile  lit  up  the  convict's  face  as  his  '  eye  traveled 
quickly  through  the  penny  sheet  and  noted  the  following  small 
item  among  the  "Personals" : 


"Any  person  knowing  the  present  whereabouts  of  Robert 

E.  Long,  who  left  his  home,  2112  St.,  London,  England, 

about  three  years  ago  to  visit  Paris,  and  last  heard  of  there, 
will  receive  $2,000  reward  by  communicating  with  Gordon 
Long,  Palmer  House,  Chicago,  111." 


"Gordon?     My  brother!" 

"Yes,  Robert ;   am  I  welcome  ?" 

"Certainly;  be  seated.  Please  excuse  my  hesitation  for  I 
was  quite  surprised  to  see  you.  The  man  gave  me  to  understand 
that  I  would  find  a  friend  waiting,  but  little  did  I  expect 
to  find  a  brother  in  "wicked  city."  How  are  our  friends  in 
London  ?" 

"They  are  well,  but  my  dear  boy,  tell  me  of  yourself.  Where 
have  you  been  for  the  last  two  years  or  more?  I  have  searched 
the  world  over  without  obtaining  the  slightest  clew.  We  were 
greatly  worried  about  you." 

"You  say  'we.'    Whom  do  you  mean  by  'we'?" 

"Giles  for  one,  poor  fellow,  he  seemed  quite  broken  up  over 
your  unaccountable  absence.  He  often  saw  you  experimenting 
and  messing  around  the  laboratory  and  is  under  the  impression 
you  ate  some  of  the  compounds  you  mixed,  and  turned  into  an 

(17) 


18  WICKED  CITY. 

imp  of  darkness.  He  sticks  to  his  theory  and  declares  he  has  seen 
you  in  his  dreams  and  you  would  return  to  us  in  the  form  of  a 
cloven-foot  devil.  And  say  what  you  will,  you  cannot  reason  with 
him  or  shake  his  belief,  ridiculous  as  it  seems.  This  faithful  old 
servant  is  not  the  only  person  that  has  grieved  about  you.  You 
remember  Mrs.  Waite  and  her  lovely  daughter  Dorris?" 

"Yes,  quite  well."  Robert  replied  in  eager  questioning  tone. 

"If  you  were  a  son  or  brother,  they  could  not  have  been 
more  concerned. 

"I  suppose  her  daughter  never  sprinkled  an  eye-lash  over  my 
absence?" 

"I  could  not  say  as  to  that,  but  she  seemed  greatly  depressed 
over  your  mysterious  disappearance.  She  is  really  a  good  girl  and 
loves  her  mother  with  all  her  heart.  I  am  afraid  she  has  no  heart  to 
bestow  in  any  other  direction.  But  this  is  not  telling  me  where 
you  have  been  keeping  yourself." 

"I  accompanied  Mrs.  Waite  and  her  daughter  to  Paris  and  was 
with  them  until  they  left  for  America,  which  was  earlier  than  they 
wished.  Their  departure  was  somewhat  hastened  on  account  of 
the  unwelcome  attention  of  a  Captain  Somebody,  I  don't  remem- 
ber his  name,  who  seemed  to  be  an  old,  but  unpleasant,  acquaint- 
ance of  Mrs.  Waite.  I  did  not  happen  to  meet  him,  but  Miss 
Dorris  said  he  was  very  persistent  in  his  advances  toward  her 
mother  and  herself.  After  their  departure  I  took  a  trip  to  Monte 
Carlo  and  have  spent  most  of  my  time  since  in  Spain  and  recently 
came  from  Cuba." 

"But,  my  dear  Robert,  why  in  all  this  time  have  you  not  com- 
municated with  us?" 

"Gordon,  do  not  ask  me  to  tell  you  the  reason.  I  am  different 
from  the  Robert  of  old. 

"I  can  see  no  change.  You  are  pale  and  look  somewhat  older. 
I  see  no  other,"  Gordon  declared. 

"Yes,  I  know  you  can  see  no  change  in  me,  but  there  is  a  change. 
The  first  change  I  noted  was  when  we  were  mere  youths  of  nine- 
teen. Up  to  that  time  I  guess  there  was  not  a  more  God-fearing 
or  righteous  boy  in  miles  of  travel  around  old  London,  unless  it  was 
yourself,  Gordon ;  but  since  that  night  of  Halloween  when  we  came 
in  from  an  evening's  jolly  fun,  and  met  old  Giles  flying  past  us  on 
a  run,  thinking  our  father  was  ill  or  perhaps  dying,  we  ran  to  his 
room,  and  not  finding  him  there,  we  looked  all  over  the  big  house 
and  at  last  found  him  bending  over  the  bed  on  which  lay  Giles' 
wife,  dying.  She  was  feebly  urging  him  to  agree  to  something.  Do 
you  remember,  Gordon?" 

"Yes,  and  he  shook  his  grey  head  and  cried  out  in  anguish  : 
'No,  my  good  woman,  you  ask  too  much.  I  love  both  of  my  boys. 
How  am  I  to  tell  them  that  one  is  the  offspring  of  a  father,  who  in 
wild  and  immoral  passion,  so  far  forgot  the  duty  he  owed  to  the 
saintly  mother  of  the  other  as  to  bring  about  this,  the  result  of  his 
perfidy  and  unfaithfulness!  They  would  despise  me,  both  of  them 


WICKED  CITY.  10 

would  hate  me — their  unnatural  father.  Don't  ask  this,  Mary.  You 
are  not  going  to  die,  you  have  not  sinned,  you  are  not  responsible 
for  my  sin.  I  must  bear  this  alone.'  'No,  no,  no !  It  be  this  secret 
Oie  'ave  on  me  'eart.  Master,  Oie  must  confess  it  afore  Oie  die. 
Ef  Oie  don't,  my  poor  old  body  will  twist  and  squirm  in  the  grave. 
Tell  'em,  Master,  tell  'em  yourself  or  send  'em  to  me  an  Oie  will, 
for  they  shall  know  the  truth  afore  Oie  die,  ef  God  spares  me 
till  they  come.  Send  for  'em,  Master,  for  Oie  am  going  fast !'  Then 
father  says :  'Mary,  you  will  not  die,  Giles  will  be  here  soon  with 
the  doctor.  He  will  see  you  through  again  as  he  did  before.'  'No, 
no,  Master,  Oie  be  dying.'  Then,  Robert,  I  remember  your  face, 
how  white  and  changed  it  was  as  you  boldly  stepped  around  the 
big  bed  into  view  and  our  father  raised  his  bent  form  only  to  totter 
back  and  sink  into  a  chair.  'Boys,'  he  cried,  'what  have  you  heard?' 
'We  have  heard  all,  sir,'  you  answered;  and  I  think  the  tone  of 
your  voice  cut  him  to  the  quick  for  he  grew  paler  than  the  poor 
old  nurse  on  the  bed,  but  not  a  word  did  he  say  until  old  Mary 
had  told  us  over  again  that  one  of  us  was  an  illegitimate  child. 
'Which  is  the  unfortunate  one?'  you  asked  her  and  she  says,  'Oie 
do  not  know.  Oh,  God,  that  Oie  did,  for  Oie  am  sure  that  your 
poor  father  will  not  tell  you.'  'No,  Mary,  I  can  not  tell  them  now ; 
but  when  they  are  men  they  shall  know.  I  promise  you  that.'  An 
expression  of  relief  passed  over  the  simple  old  creature's  face,  which 
was  growing  grey  and  ashen,  as  she  continued :  'Robert,  I  think  you 
are  the  unfortunate  one,  but  Oie  am  not  sure.  It  might  be  Gordon.' 
Then  as  I  saw  death  would  claim  her  in  a  very  few  moments,  I 
whispered  to  you  to  ask  her  of  the  mother.  'She  wus  my  mistress,' 
the  dying  nurse  answered,  'and  a  beautiful  lady,  too.  It  was  Oie  that 
brought  'er  to  this  very  'ouse  and  you  wus  born  'ere  in  the  old 
wing  while  Mrs.  Long  was  sick  in  the  white  chamber  where  she 
died  after  giving  birth  to  one  of  vou,  I  don't  know  which.  You 
was  nursed  by  my  mistress  till  you  wus  old  enuf  to  be  left  with 
me  for  she  went  away,  poor  mistress,  and  Oie  never  seed  her  to  this 
day.  Oie  am  sure  she  is  dea — Oh,  God,  Oie  am  going,  my  secret  is 
told.  Robert  and  Gordon,  you  forgive  an  old  woman  who  meant 
no  'arm?'  Then  we  each  took  one  of  her  old  withered  hands  and 
assured  her  that  she  had  done  no  wrong ;  and  if  she  imagined  that 
she  had,  we  freely  forgave  her.  Placing  my  hand  on  her  forehead, 
I  felt  the  death  dampness  gathering  and  her  hands  were  growing 
rigid  in  ours.  Her  breath  was  coming  and  going  with  irregular 
gasps  and  loud  rattles  of  the  throat.  This  awful  scene  of  death,  the 
first  we  ever  looked  upon,  completely  unnerved  me;  but  you  were 
more  collected  and  looking  steadily  at  our  father  who  sat  with 
bowed  head  said:  'Father,  who  was  she?  Explain.'  But  a  deathlike 
stillness  invaded  the  chamber.  It  grew  oppressive.  Again  you 
asked  this  question  and  receiving  no  reply  turned  to  the  bed  of 
dear  old  nurse  who  had  been  like  a  mother  to  us.  The  last  faint 
spark  of  intelligence  was  revived  for  a  moment  and  she  struggled 
desperately  for  utterance;  but  it  failed  her  and  she  would  never 
speak  again.  We  kissed  and  folded  her  hands  over  the  motionless 
breast.  Then  assisting  our  poor,  humiliated,  grief-stricken  father  to 


20  WICKED  CITY. 

rise,  we  half  carried  him  to  his  room  where  we  left  him  in  silence 
with  the  tears  glistening  in  his  eyes.  Giles  came  with  the  doctoi 
whom  we  conducted  into  the  presence  of  the  living  who  was  suffer- 
ing untold  agony  from  remorse,  while  we  left  Giles  with  his  dead 
who  had  ceased  to  suffer  and  lay  with  a  look  of  relief  and  con 
tent  on  her  homely,  honest  old  face,  brought  about  by  being  abl< 
to  relieve  her  mind  of  the  secret  she  had  kept  so  many  years." 

"Yes,  you  tell  it  well,  Gordon,  and  it  was  after  this  scene  that 
you  have  so  truly  portrayed  that  I  felt  there  was  a  change  in  me. 
All  the  evil  passions  seemed  to  rise  to  the  surface  and  for  the 
moment  consume  the  good  impulses  that  predominated  before.  The 
evil  has  been  gradually  crowding  out  and  usurping  the  place  of 
good  and  if  it  keeps  on  crowding  and  crowding  the  good  out,  it 
will  be  all  evil.  What  would  be  the  result?" 

"Well,  my  brother,  I  cannot  -bring  myself  to  believe  such  a  con 
dition  of  affairs  possible  in  your  case  for  there  is  too  much  good 
in  you.  As  boys  together,  we  shared  each  others  every  thought  and 
our  hearts  were  as  open  as  the  Holy  Book  to  be  read  by  each 
other;  and  I  am  sure  up  to  this  death-bed  scene  which  revealed 
the  awful  mistake  of  the  father  we  had  both  loved  and  respected, 
you  were  at  the  apex  of  all  that  was  generous  and  good ;  but  since 
then  I  noticed  you  became  a  little  wild  and  I  was  also  somewhat 
changed,  but,  we  are  men  now,  Robert,  and  I  know  with  the  good 
that  is  in  you,  you  will  be  proof  against  alHnvasion  of  evil.  Any- 
how evil  will  never  be  the  reigning  power  in  your  case.  But  in 
answer  to  your  question  proper,  in  case  of  the  event  you  so  much 
fear,  you  would  be  what  is  termed  a  moral  degenerate." 

"A  'moral  degenerate !'  " 

"Oh,  Robert,  my  brother,  you  should  not  liken  yourself  to  such 
Why  such  morbid  fancies?  Such  a  thing  would  be  impossible 
utterly  out  of  the  question.  There  was  too  much  good  in  you  as  a 
youth.  You  do  yourself  an  injustice  by  countenancing  such  a 
thought.  Cast  aside  such  morbid  fancies.  You  have  been  among 
strangers  too  much.  You  are  among  friends  now  and  with  a  broth 
er's  love,  too." 

"Gordon,  I  cannot  accept  a  brother's  love  from  you.  Neither 
am  I  entitled  to  it  for,  to  be  candid  with  you,  there  is  no  love  in  my 
heart  for  you.  By  intuition,  I  know  that  you  are  the  son  of  an  hon- 
orable and  saintly  mother,  while  I  am  the  result  of  a  woman's 
duplicity  and  a  man's  weakness,  or  vice  versa  as  it  may  be.  Did  we 
not  read  in  our  Bible,  which  we  used  to  believe  so  implicitly,  that 
'evil  begets  evil,  and  that  which  is  born  of  evil,  evil  will  be'?  I  can- 
not help  it,  Gordon,  but  there  is  evil  in  my  heart,  an  evil  I  can  not 
control.  I  fail  to  find  any  love  in  my  heart  for  you.  That  is  proof 
enough  that  evil  predominates.  There  is  only  one  thing  I  care  for 
on  this  earth — that  is  Dorris  Waite ;  and  when  I  discovered  that  she 
had  a  preference  for  you,  Gordon,  I  hated  you  almost  as  much  as  I 
had  loved  you  before." 

"Well,  Robert,  this  is  indeed  sad  news  to  hear.  I  did  not  dream 
that  you  were  also  in  love  with  this  saintly  girl,  and  your  heart 
steeled  against  me  as  you  believe.  Are  you  not  mistaken?  Is  there 


WICKED   CITY.  21 

no  brotherly  feeling  in  it  for  me?  Don't  you  think  now  that  we  are 
together  that  this  old  antipathy  will  be  crowded  out  and  a  better 
feeling  will  prevail  instead?'' 

Thinking  rapidly  a  moment,  Robert  arose  to  his  feet  and  took  a. 
couple  of  turns  across  the  rich  carpet.  Gordon  arose  also  and 
watched  his  face  which  seemed  to  be  communing  with  the  heart 
within.  He  watched  him  with  an  eager  expectant  look  as  though  a 
life  depended  upon  the  next  word  to  fall  from  those  tightly  com- 
pressed lips.  Robert  brought  up  in  front  of  him.  Gordon  could 
read  the  answer  in  his  eyes  before  the  lips  below  could  frame  it. 

"Don't  say  you  can't  Robert." 

"Gordon,  I  have  searched  the  very  deepest  recesses  of  my  heart 
and  I  can  find  love  there  for  only  one  person  in  this  unjust  world." 

"And  that  is ?"  Gordon  asked  the  question  although  know- 
ing full  well  the  answer. 

"Dorris  Waite,"  Robert  replied.  "All  the  good  feeling  left  in 
my  heart  is  bound  up  in  the  memory  of  her  sweet  face.  She  alone 
could  redeem  me  and  drive  out  the  evil  that  controls  me;  but  I  am 
satisfied  her  love  is  given  to  you." 

Gordon's  face,  up  to  this  time  white  to  the  lips,  showed  color  as 
Robert  suggested  the  possibility  of  her  loving  him. 

"No,  Robert,  you  are  mistaken.  She  does  not  love  me  any 
more  than  she  does  you.  Would  to  God  she  could  learn  to  love  one 
of  us !  I  would  even  welcome  death  in  preference  to  a  refusal  when 
the  time  comes  that  I  can  feel  justified  in  asking  her  hand."  Gor- 
don's voice  had  become  husky  and  broken.  He  changed  the  subject 
by  inquiring,  "Robert,  do  you  still  gamble?" 

"Yes  the  passion  I  formed  for  it  in  England  and  France  still 
sticks  to  me." 

"You  lost  a  great  deal  of  money  learning  the  game,  did  you  not, 
Robert  ?" 

"Well,  yes,  it  did  cost  me  something  to  learn  the  great  American 
game  they  call  poker,  but  the  most  of  the  money  I  lost  in  England 
was  at  baccarat.  I  lost  all  the  money  the  old  gentleman  left  me  to 
live  upon  for  three  years,  or  until  the  clock  would  speak  its  piece. 
I  left  the  game  £28,000  loser." 

"So  much  as  that,  Robert?  Our  father  left  us  only  £20,000 
apiece.  You  must  have  won  some  before  this  time  you  speak  of." 

"Yes,  I  won  £9,000,  8.000  of  which  I  lost  that  evening  along  with 
the  20,000.  I  lost  the  £2,000  you  lent  me.  Then  after  that  I  lost 
£5,000  you  'staked'  me  to  accompany  Mrs.  Waite  and  Miss  Waite  to 
Paris  on." 

"You  lost  it  at  Paris,  then?     Do  they  play  much  baccarat  there?" 

"No,  not  as  much  as  they  do  in  London.  I  lost  the  £5,000  learn- 
ing the  game  I  expect  to  indulge  in  this  evening— the  great  American 
game  of  poker — a  game  that  any  gentleman  can  take  a  hand  at  with- 
out lessening  his  estimated  worth  morally,  although  it  may  lower 
what  he  is  estimated  to  be  worth  in  a  financial  way.  Wouldn't  you 
like  to  accompany  me  and  take  a  hand  yourself?"  Robert  asked  this 
question  knowing  full  well  what  the  answer  would  be. 


22  WICKED   CITY. 

"No,  Robert,  I  am  still  sticking  to  the  old  principles  of  our 
younger  days.  I  neither  gamble,  drink  nor  associate  myiself  with 
evil,  if  I  am  aware  that  it  is  evil." 

"Well,  you  had  better  not  associate  with  me,  then,  my  scrupu- 
lous brother,  for  I  am  all  that  is  evil." 

"Ah,  Robert,  you  are  jesting.  Were  you  not  also  jesting  when 
you  said  you  had  looked  into  the  recesses  of  your  heart  and  could 
find  no  love,  no  brotherly  feeling,  for  me  there,  I  who  have  always 
loved  you  so  dearly?" 

"No,  Gordon,  1  am  afraid  it  is  the  truth." 

"Why  is  this?     Is  all  feeling  dead  within  you?" 

"I  am  afraid  it  is,  unless  it  is  with  one  exception." 

"And  that  is ?" 

"I  would  sooner  not  discuss  the  subject.  I  presume  you  have 
something  to  say  and  as  I  have  but  a  short  time  to  listen,  you  had 
better  fire  away."  This  was  said  in  a  quick,  curt  tone,  a  tone  that 
cut  Gordon  to  the  heart. 

"Robert,  is  it  possible  that  you  are  the  same  one  who,  as  a  lad, 
used  to  be  so  kind,  so  sympathetic,  so  generous  and  manly?  Then 
you  used  to  fight  my  battles  for  me,  help  me  with  my  lessons,  take 
my  lickings,  but  now— oh,  my  brother,  you  do  not  treat  me  even 
with  the  courtesy  due  a  business  acquaintance." 

"Well,  what  can  you  expect  of  the  spawn  from  the  sources  that 
are  accountable  for  my  existence?  I  am  apart  from  the  world.  I 
am  not  of  it,  unless  I  am  among  the  element  my  birth  rates  me  for." 

"What  element  do  you  refer  to?" 

"Why  the  element  in  which  you  find  the  thief,  the  harlot,  the 
drunkard,  the  bastard,  the  confidence-man,  the  thug,  the  murderer, 
the  man  who  lives  on  the  shame  of  a  woman,  and  last,  but  not  least, 
the  man  who  owes  a  duty  to  one  woman  and  forgets  it  to  enjoy  the 
favors  of  another — the  adulterer." 

While  he  was  speaking,  Gordon  could  see  the  demon  within  fly 
to  the  surface  and  as  quickly  return  to  its  old  seat  by  his  passion 
suppressed  heart  to  keep  the  fire  smouldering.  Long  suppressed 
passion  and  years  of  suppressed  action  form  a  combination  that  is 
dangerous  when  it  breaks  its  bounds.  When  Robert  had  ceased 
speaking,  Gordon  was  satisfied  he  had  only  found  his  brother  to 
lose  him  again  and  to  lose  him  in  a  way  more  trying  than  the  real 
death  of  the  body. 

"Robert,  it  is  true.  You  satisfy  me  beyond  a  doubt  that  I  have 
indeed  lost  your  love,  but  let  me  not  lose  your  society  and  if  there 
is  any  little  favor  I  can  do  for  you,  you  will  always  please  me  by 
stating  it.  I  think  this  morbid  fancy  you  have,  that  you  are  the  ille- 
gitimate son,  is  what  is  working  this  great  change,  and  I  can  not  see 
why  you  are  so  positive.  It  is  an  even  chance  that  I  am  to  suffer 
for  our  father's  crime  and  not  you,  although  you  seem  so  positive ; 
so  if  that  is  in  reality  what  is  working  this  great  change  in  you,  I 
would  try  and  cheer  up  a  little.  Let  a  little  sunshine  into  your  heart. 
Hope  for  the  best  and  don't  be  so  positive  of  the  worst  until  the 
fatal  day  arrives  which  proves  the  truth  of  all— that  which  we  both 
dread." 


WICKED  CITY.  23 

"Dread,  you  say,  Gordon?  You  may  dread,  but  I, — 1ia-ha,  I 
dread  nothing1.  I  have  thoroughly  accustomed  myself  to  the  idea 
and  the  belief  that  I  am  the  one.  Dorris  does  not  know  anything 
about  this,  does  she?  You  have  not  been  so  foolish  as  to  tell  her 
or  her  mother?" 

"No,  I  have  told  them  no  more  than  they  -already  knew  of  the 
matter  while  in  London.  They  understand  that  the  mysterious 
clock  holds  the  secret  of  which  one  is  to  be  the  heir,  but  outside  of 
that,  I  believe  they  know  nothing.  I  am  sure  father  would  have 
no  reason  to  tell  Mrs.  Waite,  as  he  was  only  slightly  acquainted  with 
her,  haying  met  her  at  her  marriage  to  Mr.  Waite,  whom  he  had 
known  in  a  business  way ;  and  the  reason  father  sent  for  her  was  to 
straighten  out  some  business  regarding  the  property  he  owns  here. 
Mr.  Waite  was  his  attorney  and  agent  here,  and  it  was  necessary  for 
her  to  come  to  him  in  person  in  order  to  legally  transfer  her  trusts 
to  his  lawyers  in  London." 

"Yes,  I  remember.  She  was  only  up  to  see  the  Governor  once 
with  the  lawyers  to  sign  some  papers  and  make  some  transfers.  He 
could  not  have  "told  her  anything  and  the  lawyers  certainly  wouldn't. 
It's  a  good  thing  Mrs.  Waite  does  not  know  for  if  she  did  I  guess 
she  would  not  tolerate  your  attentions  to  her  daughter,  for  I  sup- 
pose you  have  paid  her  many  visits  in  the  last  two  years." 

"Well,  yes,  Robert,  I  have  made  a  goodlnany  visits,  but  I  hope 
you  believe  me  more  honorable  than  to  press  my  suit  until  I  am 
positive  that  I  have  the  right,  as  an  honorable  man.  No,  it  would 
not  be  just  or  right  for  either  one  of  us  until  we  know  the  truth. 
So  we  are  not  rivals  at  all,  for  only  one  of  us  will  have  any  right 
to  claim  her  hand  in  marriage,  if  she  should  so  honor  us  with  her 
consent,  which  I  think  is  doubtful  for  all  her  love  seems  to  be  given 
to  her  dear  mother,  who  is  the  kindest  and  most  pleasant  of  ladies." 

"Well,  you  are  entitled  to  think  as  you  like,  and  do  as  you  like, 
Gordon,  but  as  for  myself,  I  shall  _not  let  any  such  fine  sentiments 
stand  in  the  way  of  winning  her,  if  it  is  in  my  power.  She  need 
never  know  that  either  one  of  us  is  a  bastard.  Of  course,  if  I  am 
the  one,  as  I  am  positive  I  am,  I  would  not  have  anything  to  support 
her  on,  but  I  would  make  a  living  for  her  with  the  paste-boards." 

"Ah,  Robert,  why  will  you  talk  so  harsh  of  yourself  and  your 
intentions?  I  am  sure  you  cannot  mean  what  you  say.  It  would 
mean  that  you  would  press  your  suit  even  if  you  were  proved  to  be 
the  illegitimate  son,  and  that  you  would  marry  her  and  support  her 
by  gambling,  if  I  understood  your  meaning  of  the  'paste-boards,' 
and  blight  that  pure,  sweet,  innocent  life.  You  can.  not  mean  it  Rob- 
ert. What  you  imagine  is  love  in  your  _heart  for  her  is  only  pas- 
sion, a  passion  that  will  burn  itself  out  in  a  short  time.  You  cer- 
tainly can  not  love  her  as  I  do,  for  I  have  learned  to  love  her  by 
degrees,  more  and  more  every  visit  I  have  made,  which  have  been 
many  and  I  am  sure  it  is  an  everlasting  love,  a  love  that  would 
always  keep  her  life  as  full  of  happiness  as  it  is  now  for  she  is 
supremely  happy  with  her  mother,  her  home  and  her  pets.  She  is 
like  a  tender  young  rose-bud  which  to  transplant  might  cause  it  to 
wither  and  die,  unless  it  were  transplanted  in  the  garden  of  eternal 


24  WICKED  CITY. 

love  and  not  the  hot-bed  of  passion,  around  which  are  the  elements 
of  which  you  speak,  if  you  fail  to  succeed  to  the  estates  and  the 
good  name  that  goes  with  them.  You  couldn't  do  it  Robert,  and 
when  you  see  her  again,  which  you  will  if  you  accompany  me  to- 
morrow, you  will  think  better  of  it.  It  will  be  a  desecration  to 
pure  humanity  if  you  should  succeed  in  putting  your  ideas  into 
execution." 

"Well,  Gordon,  I  hardly  know — you  are  right,  I  presume,  if 
we  should  consider  right;  but  my  father  did  not  consider  my  right, 
and  I  do  not  see  why  I  should  consider  what  is  right  regarding 
others.  But  then,  we  will  let  it  go.  I  hardly  know  my  own  heart, 
and  it  is  hard  to  tell  what  I  should  do.  Anyway,  if  we  do  not 
understand  each  other,  this  talk  has  illustrated  to  you  just  what  I 
was  telling  you  a  few  moments  ago.  As  a  bastard,  I  can  not  marry 
or  associate  with  an  honorable  lady.  I  must  consort  with  my  kind, 
and  the  kind  I  spring  from — fallen  women,  probably.  I  speak 
plainly  my  beliefs." 

Gordon's  face  was  the  picture  of  sorrow  and  compassion  as 
Robert  finished  his  bitter,  but  nevertheless,  true  speech,  true  in  part. 
He  made  no  reply  for  some  moments,  in  the  meantime  studying  the 
other  intently  as  if  he  would  fathom  his  soul.  Then  he  spoke,  his 
voice  low  and  tender,  but  troubled. 

"Robert,  I  have  been  thinking,  thinking  deeply;  and  the  more 
I  think  of  this  fearful  condition  of  affairs,  brought  about  by  the 
father  we  both  so  dearly  loved,  and  the  present  bitter  condition  of 
your  heart,  it  almost  unmans  me.  God,  give  me  strength  to  do 
right!  I  wish  to  be  just.  I  want  to  do  what  is  best  for  those  I 
love.  I  love  you,  my  brother,  and  I  also  love  Dorris.  God  bless 
the  image  of  her  I  hold  in  my  heart !  I  love  you  both,  Robert,  and 
if  I  had  the  remotest  idea  that  it  would  be  best  for  her  and  best  for 
you  also  to  marry,  I  believe  I  would  relinquish  all  my  hopes  and 
further  your  chances  to  win  her.  But,  Robert,  you  deceive  your- 
self. You  have  expressed  yourself  plainly  to  me  and  I  will  do  so  in 
return.  What  you  believe  is  love  is  only  passion,  animal  passion, 
which  would  not  last  and  in  time  you  would  both  be  very  unhappy." 

"No,  I  don't  agree  with  you  there,  Gordon.  The  memory  of 
her  has  sunk  deep  down  in  my  heart.  The  only  tender  thought  I 
have  is  when  I  think  of  her  as  I  knew  her  in  London  and  Paris." 

"Yes,  but  don't  you  see?  If  you  loved  her  as  you  imagine, 
you  would  have  crossed  the  water  to  see  her  before  this.  Your  love 
for  gambling  is  stronger  than  your  love  for  her.  Does  that  not 
prove  it  to  you?" 

"No,  for  I  could  not  come  sooner.  I  would  have  been  here  all 
the  time,  most  likely,  if  I  could." 

"You  say  if  you  could?  Now  just  listen  to  reason.  My  dear 
brother,  don't  you  see  that  this  proves  it  to  be  only  a  passion  for 
the  time  being  while  you  were  with  her  there;  and  again  aroused 
when  you  are  near  her  again  here.  If  you  love  her  as  you  think 
you  do,  or  as  I  do  in  reality,  there  is  nothing  that  would  have  kept 
you  away  from  America  and  least  of  all  have  kept  you  from  writing 


WICKED  CITY.  26 

when  they  were  so  anxious  to  hear  from  you.  No,  no,  it  is  not  love, 
and  you  would  not  make  yourself  happy  or  her  either." 

As  Gordon  spoke,  Robert  thought  of  the  most  efficient  reason 
for  his  not  appearing  or  writing  in  the  last  two  years  and  a  bitter, 
frosty  smile  crept  into  his  face. 

"There  were  reasons,  Gordon,  which  I  cannot  discuss  with  you. 
Remember  there  is  sometimes  a  wheel  within  a  wheel.  We  will 
not  discuss  the  question  any  further,  if  you  please.  My  time  is 
growing  very  limited.  I  suppose  you  are  taking  good  care  of  the 
clock  which  is  playing  such  a  prominent  part  in  our  lives?" 

"Yes.  Oh,  by  the  way,  while  you  were  away  someone  entered 
the  lawyer's  office  and,  breaking  into  the  vault,  stole  the  clock  and 
some  £400  with  it." 

"Is  that  possible?    Then  you  haven't  it?" 

"Yes,  I  got  it  safe  and  sound,  but  not  for  some  time  after." 

"How  did  you  find  it?" 

"I  advertised  for  it,  giving  description  and  offering  a  reward. 
About  three  months  later  it  was  returned  by  the  keeper  of  a  refresh- 
ment place  who  claimed  a  young  fellow  left  it  there  to  raffle  off. 
He  never  showed  up  again,  but  somebody  called  his  attention  to  my 
advertisement  and  that  is  how  it  found  its  way  back.  I  made  up 
my  mind  that  I  would  keep  it  on  the  mantle.  The  lawyers  were 
glad  to  shift  the  responsibility  and  so  there  it  has  been  ever  since, 
safe  and  found." 

"Did  it  lose  any  time  while  it  was  away  from  the  vault?" 

"No,  not  if  we  can  depend  on  what  the  man  'Butch'  says.  He 
claims  it  was  running  and  keeping  perfect  time  for  his  Customers 
who  admired  it  very  much ;  but  I  doubt  if  his  customers  ever  saw 
it  for  I  think  he  was  the  thief  himself.  The  lawyers  would  have 
prosecuted  him  if  I  had  sanctioned  it.  He  was  an  ugly  looking  cus- 
tomer and  I  shouldn't  like  to  meet  him  on  a  dark  night  with  the 
chances  in  his  favor." 

"I  suppose  that  our  faithful  old  Giles  will  take  good  care  of  it 
while  you  are  away?" 

"Yes,  he  has  always  taken  good  care  of  it ;  but  it  was  hard  to 
get  him  even  to  touch  it,  he  was  so  superstitious  on  account  of  its 
running  right  along  for  months  without  being  wound.  He  believes 
there  is  something  supernatural  connected  with  it."  Robert  laughed, 
"Yea,  he  even  imagines  the  mechanical  arrangements  which  are  so 
extensive  are  operated  and  run  by  the  invisible  hands  of  some  spirit. 
When  I  came  back  from  my  first  trip  over  here,  the  dust  was  quite 
thick  on  the  bronze  and  gold  trappings  of  the  angel  that  stands 
guard  on  the  top.  He  had  been  afraid  to  dust  that  part  of  it,  while 
the  rest  he  had  kept  scrupulously  clean.  I  had  quite  a  time  to  get 
him  to  dust  the  angel  top-piece.  He  claimed  that  if  he  touched  it, 
it  would  disappear  and  carry  the  clock  and  all  with  it  to  keep  time 
for  the  'blessed  folks  as  was  above.' "  Robert  laughed  again. 

"How  long  since  you  heard  from  him?" 

"Well,  I  generally  hear  from  him  every  three  weeks.  He  just 
writes  a  few  lines  to  let  me  know  that  things  are  right  at  home. 


26  .  WICKED  CITY. 

It  has  been  ten  days  since  I  heard  from  him  last.  He  is  gelling 
almost  as  eccentric  as  our  poor  father  just  before  his  death. 
He  has  been  a  good,  faithful,  old  servant.  I  hope  you  will  let  him 
live  and  die  there  in  the  old  home  if  you  become  master  instead  Df 
me;  and  Robert,  believe  me,  I  hope  with  all  my  heart  that  you  will 
be  the  master  and  not  I." 

"I  never  will  be  master  there,  so  old  Giles  will  never  see  me 
again.  He  will  still  have  to  think  I  have  been  transformed  into  a 
devil." 

"What,  Robert,  you  mean  you're  not  going  to  accompany  me 
back  to  England?" 

"No,  not  I.  I  have  had  all  of  old  England  I  want.  I  will  stake 
you  to  it,  its  mansions  and  all,"  he  roughly  replied. 

"Yes,  but  you  forget  we  must  be  there  on  the  first  of  May." 

"I  forget  nothing.  I  wish  I  could.  I  can  not  go  back  with 
you." 

"Robert,  you  are  so  strange.  W'hy  will  you  not  go  back  with 
me?" 

"Why, — well,  I  owe  a  debt  here  of  $5,000.00.  I  can  not  leave 
the  country  without  settling  it." 

"I  can  raise  that  amount  here  for  you." 

"Can  you  have  it  by  to-morrow?" 

"Yes,  I  will  bring  it  with  me  when  we  meet  to  call  on  Mrs. 
Waite." 

"They  live  near  Sunnyside,  do  they  not?" 

"Yes." 

"I'm  going  out  that  way  with  a  party  of  friends  and  may 
stay  all  night  at  one  of  their  homes.  So  to  make  sure,  I  will  meet 
you  on  the  banks  of  the  river  near  their  place,  and  we  will  pay  our 
respects  together." 

"Au  revoir,  then,  until  we  meet  there,  which  we  had  better  do 
about  1  p.  m.  to-morrow." 

Gordon  Long  departed  puzzling  his  mind  over  Robert's  strange 
reappearance  after  nearly  three  years  of  silence. 

We  will  drift  from  the  present  to  the  past,  from  Chicago  to 
London,  and  discover  the  reason.  The  scene  quickly  shifts  to  Chi- 
cago again  as  this  odd  story  is  a  tale  of  "wicked  city",  founded  on 
facts  well  known  to  almost  every  reader. 


WICKED  CITY. 


27 


DORKJS. 
"CROSSING  THE  RIVER  OF  DESPAIR.' 


CHAPTER  n. 

IN  AN  ENGLISH  PRISON. 

In  a  cell  of  one  of  the  many  prisons  abounding  in  London,  sat 
a  man  with  bowed  head  and  dejected  mien,  apparently  in  utter 
despair — but  was  he  in  such  despair  as  his  attitude  would  suggest? 
After  the  guard  or  "key,"  as  he  is  termed  by  the  prisoners,  had 
passed  his  cell  door  and  disappeared  down  the  corridor  he  slowly 
raised  his  face,  and  listened  till  the  last  fainst  echo  of  his  footsteps 
died  away  in  the  distance;  then  he  arose  to  his  feet,  showing  a  tall, 
commanding  figure  and  face.  The  only  peculiar  thing  about 
his  fine  features  was  the  eyes ;  they  seemed  to  hold  one 
powerless  for  a  moment,  and  a  strange  feeling  would  creep 
over  one,  which  was  hard  to  shake  off.  There  was  little  of  the 
criminal  look  about  this  man — just  something  one  could  not  under- 
stand: but  why  this  jubilant  look,  when  a  moment  ago  his  attitude 
suggested  such  complete  despair?  Has  he  at  last  been  forced  to  see 
the  error  of  his  ways?  No,  there  must  be  some  other  reason  for  the 
hope  you  see  there,  for  he  believes  in  no  God.  His  one  great  idea 
is  escape ;  an  idea  that  has  filled  him  with  hope  day  and  night,  since 
deprived  of  his  liberty,  and  now  it  is  about  to  be  realized.  During  two 
years  imprisonment  he  had  formed  the  habit  of  talking  to  himself  in 
a  mutttering  tone  impossible  to  recognize  as  words  by  any  chance 
listener.  This  musing  will  help  us  to  tell  the  story.  "Only)  a  few 
days  more  between  me  and  freedom." — He  moved  to  the  door  of 
his  cell  with  a  stride  that  still  denoted  strength.  Grasping  the  iron 
bars  with  white,  but  firm  hands,  he  peered  down  the  corridor, 
listening  intently.  "I  must  be  cautious ;  that  'key'  watches  me  like 
a  hawk  lately  —  can  he  suspect  anything,  I  wonder?  No,  I  guess 
not,  but  nevertheless,  I  shall  be  careful  and  appear  as  ever  for  he 
is  always  on  the  watch.  He  has  had  it  in  for  me  ever  since  I 
broke  his  nose  on  that  accursed  treadmill.  I  wish  it  had  been  his 
bull  neck  instead;  I  could  twist  that  with  pleasure."  With  these 
unpleasant  reflections  he  turned  away  and  seated  himself  at  a  small 
table,  where  there  were  writing  materials  in  abundance,  also 
a  pile  of  manuscript,  on  top  of  which  was  a  small  Bible,  seemingly 
laid  by  the  gentle  hand  of  a  reverent  reader  of  God's  word,  but  on 
the  contrary,  it  was  used  merely  as  a  paperweight  to  hold  in  place 
the  sheets  which  were  disturbed  by  the  gentle  breeze  that  found 
its  way  through  the  one  small,  grated  window  of  the  cell.  He 
showed  his  respect  for  the  Holy  Book  by  tossing  it  carelessly  to  one 
side  with  a  sneering  mutter — "You  answer  pretty  well  for  a  'stall* 
to  throw  off  those  guards,  as  does  this  manuscript — the  supposed 
confession  of  my  supposed  crimes,  as  it  grows  in  height  from  the 
(*» 


80  WICKED  CITY. 

table,  completely  hiding  from  their  view,  as  they  pass,  my  real  work 
on  these  little  articles  here,  'the  conductors  to  freedom.'  '  He  had 
slid  into  view  of  his  eager  eyes,  three  large  keys  as  flat  almost 
as  the  paper  they  had  reposed  between — having  been  formed  from 
a  piece  of  steel.  Upon  this  latter  article  he  commenced  work. 
The  tool  used  in  the  formation  of  these  precious  keys  was  simply, 
to  all  appearance,  a  common  fountain  pen  and  holder,  but  this 
innocent  looking  holder  contained  three  compartments;  two  ot 
them  held  acids,  both  comparatively  weak  and  useless,  separated 
as  they  were  from  each  other  and  the  ink,  but  add  one  drop  of  one 
to  the  other  on  the  best  of  steel  or  sheet  iron,  and  it  will  eat  its 
way  through,  going  downward  only.  Pulling  a  writing  pad  com- 
posed of  tough,  English  paper  over  the  sheet  of  steel,  he  com- 
menced to  write,  taking  up  the  thread  of  his  confession  where  he 
had  left  off  the  night  previous;  cautiously  sliding  the  pad  to  one 
side  as  he  wrote,  he  would  press  a  small  spring  and  allow  a  drop 
of  the  acid  to  flow  from  the  pen  point  on  the  marked  outlines. 
After  carefully  drying  the  pen  he  would  press  another  spring  and 
add  the  drop  which  drove  the  other  through,  leaving  a  small  hole 
and  an  odor  that  was  hardly  noticeable.  Thus  he  had  worked  on 
night  after  night  until  the"  lights  were  put  out,  as  they  were 
regularly,  at  nine  o'clock,  apparently  writing  a  detailed  account  of  his 
past  life,  but  in  reality  burning  his  way  to  freedom,  and  a  future 
life  blacker  than  the  past  he  has  written  for  the  Governor  of  the 
prison  with  such  a  cunning  design.  At  fifteen  minutes  to  nine, 
the  fourth  key  was  added  to  the  others.  For  six  months  he  had 
studied  the  shape  of  the  key  that  unlocked  the  door  leading  from 
the  exercise  to  the  court  and  precious  freedom  beyond.  So  thor- 
oughly had  he  studied  this  particular  one  which  always  hung  with  a 
bunch  carried  by  the  guardian  of  them,  that  he  was  able  to  get  an 
exact  duplicate  of  it  in  shape  by  mental  photograhy,  but  being 
rather  doubtful  as  to  size,  he  had  prepared  four  of  them,  all  the  same 
in  pattern,  but  of  slightly  different  dimensions.  "If  one  does  not  fit 
there  are  three  more  chances,"  so  he  reasoned  with  himself  after 
secreting  them,  and  preparing  for  bed.  Did  he  prostrate  himself 
before  his  Creator,  and  cry  out  "Lord  have  mercy  on  me  a  great 
sinner?"  No,  indeed,  but  on  the  contrary,  swore  under  his  breath 
at  the  "key,"  as  he  again  passed  on  his  ceaseless  march  around  the 
corridors.  Then  he  rolled  into  bed  and  slept  as  sweetly  and  peace- 
fully as  a  little  child  tired  out  with  a  day's  play,  until  the  big  bell 
summoned  the  prisoners  to  arise  and  prepare  for  their  daily  task 
termed  "hard  labor."  As  the  bell  ceased  clanging,  the  clear  bright 
sunlight  flooded  the  great  city  with  splendor.  Its  rays  even  pene- 
trating the  prison  cells  of  the  convicts,  warming  their  hearts 
into  new  life  and  hope  for  the  future,  but  did  he  appreciate  this— 
the  bright  light  of  day?  No,  not  he.  As  he  espied  the  sunbeam 
on  the  wall  opposite,  he  quickly  sprang  to  his  feet  cursing  it,  and 
the  hand  of  God  that  controlled  it  for  it  was  rain  that  he  wished  to 
aid  him  in  carrying  out  this  long  meditated  plan  of  escape. 


WICKED  CITY.  31 

"THE  WEST  END  TRAGEDY." 

Who  is  he  that  is  so  princely  in  bearing  and  refined  in  features, 
with  a  heart  so  corrupt  as  to  curse  his  fellow  man  as  he  lay  his 
head  down  at  night,  and  the  sun  and  God,  as  he  lifts  it  at  morn? 
Who  is  he  indeed?  It  would  be  a  hard  question  to  answer  with  any 
degree  of  certainty  or  truth,  for  the  jail  records  of  the  case  were 
very  meager,  stating  only  that  number  "49,"  name  proper,  and 
everything  else  prior  to  his  arrest  in  a  fashionable  gambling  room 
at  the  "West  End,"  unknown.  The  stakes  were  high,  a  dispute 
arose,  and  one  accused  the  other  of  cheating.  The  lie  was  given ;  the 
gambler  advanced  to  resent  it;  number  "49"  with  a  lightning  like 
movement,  swung  a  large  revolver  into  plain  view  of  the  curious  ones 
who  had  gathered  around.  There  was  a  deafening  report,  and  the 
gambler  fell  at  their  feet,  with  a  bullet  through  his  heart.  His  friends 
were  spellbound  for  a  moment  at  the  awful  deed,  but  regaining  their 
senses,  simultaneously  rushed  toward  the  murderer,  who  had 
backed  to  the  door  of  exit,  the  smoking  weapon  still  in  his  hand. 
As  the  boldest  ones  pressed  forward,  he  drew  another,  crying 
"Stop."  His  voice  rang  out  clear  and  commanding,  and  there  was 
a  gleam  in  the  eyes  which  caused  them  to  falter.  "Listen  to  me, 
your  comrade  deserved  it,  and  I  killed  him  in  self  defense,  but  if 
any  one  of  you  doesn't  throw  his  hands  in  the  air  and  back 
off,  I  will  kill  him  in  cold  'blood !"  Every  hand  went  up.  Then 
slipping  one  weapon  into  an  outside  pocket,  he  backed  to  the  door, 
and  reaching  behind  with  his  disengaged  hand,  opened  it,  only  to 
fall  into  the  arms  of  the  London  policeman,  who,  hearing  the  shot, 
had  climbed  the  stairs  to  investigate.  Taken  at  a  disadvantage,  he 
was  disarmed  and  handcuffed,  after  a  desperate  struggle.  Later  at 
his  trial  he  was  sentenced  to  fourteen  years  in  prison.  From  the 
•time  of  his  arrest  two  years  ago,  up  to  the  time  we  write  of,  he 
had  maintained  a  dignified  silence.  No  relatives  came  forward. 
The  case  was  a  peculiar  one,  and  at  that  time  attracted  a  great  deal 
of  attention,  there  being  not  a  scrap  of  writing  in  his  pockets  or  a 
mark  on  his  linen,  neither  was  the  name  or  trade  mark  of  his  tailor 
or  hatter  about  his  clothes,  which  were  of  fine  texture,  made  to  fit 
his  well  proportioned  form  in  perfect  elegance.  If  he  was  a  crim- 
inal, he  was  not  a  common  one.  His  life  in  prison  during  the  two 
years  preceding  had  been  spent  the  same  as  that_  of  any  other 
prisoner.  When  there  was  no  work  to  do  on  mail  sacks  or  coal 
bags,  the  making  of  which  was  the  chief  work  of  the  prisoners, 
they  were  put  on  the  treadmill,  or  at  a  crank.  He  did  not  mix  with 
others,  and  would  answer  a  question  sometimes  with  a  brief  yes  or 
no,  but  more  often  with  a  mere  shrug  of  his  symmetrical  shoulders. 
It  was  here  that  the  guard  had  one  day  become  so  exasperated  be- 
cause he  would  not  answer  a  question,  repeatedly  put  to  him,  that 
he  slapped  his  face,  in  consequence  of  which  the  guard's  nose  was 
broken  and  his  face  badly  disfigured  by  the  prisoner.  The  Gov- 
ernor's attention  was  attracted  to  number  "49,"  particularly  and  the 


32  WICKED  CITY. 

prisoner  was  asked  by  him  if  he  would  not  write  out  a  detailed 
account  of  his  past.  To  this  he  seemed  to  assent  reluctantly,  finally 
agreeing,  providing  the  Governor  allowed  him  to  finish  it  in  detail 
before  he  submitted  it.  The  Governor  agreed  to  this,  and  ordered 
placed  in  the  cell  any  writing  materials  number  "49"  required. 
These  orders  and  agreemnts  were  carried  out  with  the  result  we 
have  noted.  Watching  his  chance  one  day  while  at  the  crank,  he  had 
extracted  one  of  the  steel  sheets  that  formed  the  lining  of  the  drum, 
inside  of  which  the  sand  cups  revolved.  Secreting  it  in  his  coarse 
canvas  prison  suit,  he  managed  to  smuggle  it  to  his  cell.  Pretending 
illness,  he  succeeded  in  securing  the  two  acids  while  in  the  prison 
hospital.  Then  he  went  to  work  upon  the  supposed  confession  for 
the  Governor  of  the  prison. 

By  climbing  on  his  only  piece  of  portable  furniture,  he  was  able 
to  look  down  upon  the  streets  below.  Nearly  under  his  window 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  court  stood  a  hack,  the  driver  sitting 
patiently  on  the  box  waiting  for  a  "fare."  This  seemed  to  be  his 
regular  stand,  as  he  had  been  noticed  by  his  watcher  above  to 
arrive  at  6  a.  m.  and  leave  at  8  :30  p.  m.  For  the  past  year,  rain 
or  shine,  he  could  be  found  at  his  post,  except  when  off  with  a 
"fare,"  or  he  stepped  around  the  corner  to  indulge  in  a  pint  of  'alf 
and  'alf  with  some  brother  "Jehu."  Number  "49"  had  studied  him 
and  his  rig  well  in  the  past  year.  In  fact,  so  well  had  he  studied 
it  that  he  became  familiar  with  every  detail,  noting  that  during  a 
storm  or  heavy  fog  he  would  sit  inside,  peering  through  the  cab 
window  for  a  customer.  As  his  gaze  was  toward  the  walk,  his 
back  would  naturally  be  toward  the  prison.  So  number  "49's"  plans 
had  been  formed  for  months,  and  as  he  was  now  in  a  position  to 
carry  them  out  the  next  rainy  day,  he  watched  the  man  with  the  whip 
with  renewed  interest,  mentally  calculating  every  chance  and 
rehearsing  every  step  and  motion  he  would  go  through  with  in 
order  to  carry  out  the  scheme  so  long  planned  and  determined  on. 
Having  finished  his  preparations  he  daily  cursed  the  sun  and  awaited 
only  a  rainy  day  till  Freedom  would  be  his. 


CHAPTER  ffl. 

"THE   ESCAPE." 

Number  "49"  was  looking  for  rain,  but  there  was  no  sign  of  it 
as  yet,  not  even  a  London  fog  to  drive  cabby  inside.  Did  he  pray 
for  rain?  No,  he  cursed  the  clouds  for  holding  back  what  he  de- 
sired. The  acids  held  in  the  penholder  he  had  used  in  forming  the 
keys  were  emptied  and  replaced  by  two  other  fluids  he  had  in.  some 
mysterious  way  secured,  possibly  from  the  laboratory  in  the  prison 
hospital.  What  were  they,  and  what  were  they  for?  Number 
"49"  after  glancing  up  and  down  the  corridor  pressed  the  spring 
and  allowed  a  drop  of  one  to  fall  on  the  palm  of  his  hand;  it 
spread  rapidly,  nearly  covering  the  surface,  changing  the  skin  to 
a  dark  hue.  Inspecting  this  closely,  he  seemed  satisfied,  then  adding 
a  drop  of  the  other,  rubbed  his  palms  together  with  a  quick  motion, 
and  entirely  removed  all  traces  of  the  dark  artificial  color  he  had 
produced  so  easily.  Seeming  well  satisfied  with  this  experiment,  he 
again  mounted  the  stool  and  looked  out ;  first  up  at  the  heavens — 
no  sign  of  rain ;  then  down  at  the  cabman,  so  unconscious  of  the  part 
he  was  to  play  in  one  of  the  cleverest  schemes  of  jail  breaking  ever 
attempted.  Stepping  down  as  he  heard  the  "key's"  footsteps,  he 
pretended  to  be  busy  at  his  writing,  then  rising  he  prepared  for  bed. 
Another  day  was  breaking  as  fine  as  the  one  previous,  when  number 
"49"  arose  to  go  through  his  daily  routine  of  work,  which  he  did 
without  a  muscle  of  his  impassive  face  betraying  the  fire  of  intention 
within.  By  a  clever  manipulation  of  circumstances,  he  had  managed 
to  get  on  the  treadmill  of  late  in  order  to  obtain  all  the  limb 
action  possible,  as  it.  might  be  very  beneficial  in  the  coming  fray,  if 
endurance  and  swiftness  were  required. 

The  next  three  days  were  as  fine  as  the  previous  ones,  and  there 
was  not  an  hour  that  he  did  not  curse  the  fact  under  his  breath. 
Upon  the  fourth  day,  a  typical  London  fog  settled  down  over  the 
city;  by  noon  it  began  to  rain  quite  hard,  sending  the  pedestrians 
and  vehicles  scurrying  along  to  seek  shelter,  even  driving  our  hardy 
hackman  inside  his  rig.  And  so  matters  finally  shaped  them- 
selves to  a  crisis,  assisted  by  the  elements.  At  5  o'clock 
the  prisoners  assembled  in  the  exercising  yard,  delighting  in 
the  cool  smell  of  the  spring  rain.  Apparently  by  accident, 
but  in  reality  by  clever  design,  number  "49"  was  at  the 
extreme  end  of  the  yard  when  the  fifteen  minutes  was  up 
and  the  criminals  were  formed  into  line  for  their  march  'back  to 
slavery  and  confinement.  Staggering  a  pace  backwards  and  allow  - 

(33) 


34  WICKED  CITY. 

ing  the  line  to  proceed  with  the  first  guard  he  threw  his  hands 
to  his  face  as  if  in  mortal  agony,  and  with  a  smothered  cry  fell 
heavily  to  the  earth.  Seeing  this,  and  being  satisfied  it  was  no  sham, 
the  2nd  guard  knelt  and  inquired  what  he  wished  done.  Half  rising 
on  his  elbow,  as  if  attempting  to  regain  his  feet,  he  again  fell  back 
with  a  moan  and  cried,  "I  am  dying — the  doctor — quick — go!"  As 
the  excited  guard  hurried  off  after  the  prison  physician,  "49"  cau- 
tiously glanced  around,  then  springing  to  his  feet,  rapidly  covered 
the  distance  between  himself  and  the  gate,  meanwhile  getting  his 
keys  ready  for  action.  He  inserted  the  largest,  number  four ;  then 
the  smallest,  number  one;  both  failed.  Number  three  did  the  work, 
and  he  was  on  the  outside.  Locking  the  gate  behind  him,  he  shot 
a  swift  glance  up  and  down  the  deserted  streets;  not  a  person  in 
sight,  and  a  perfect  deluge  of  rain  was  descending.  His  plan  worked 
well  so  far ;  everything  seemed  to  be  in  his  favor.  Through  the  fog 
could  be  seen  the  faint  outlines  of  the  hack.  Making  his  way 
swiftly  toward  it,  he  passed  close  to  the  hind  wheels,  under  which 
was  placed  a  portion  of  a  brick  by  the  methodical  driver.  He  se- 
cured it,  and  gently  but  quickly  opening  the  door  he  sprang  in  and 
grasped  the  surprised  cabby  by  the  neck  and  brought  the  brick  down 
upon  his  head  with  a  force  that  laid  the  poor  fellow  in  the  bottom  of 
his  rig,  oblivious  to  what  was  going  on  around  him.  Stripping  the 
rain  coat  from  his  limp  form  and  securing  the  waterproof  hat  from 
the  seat,  where  it  had  fallen  during  the  attack,  he  donned  both,  and 
thus  disguised  quickly  mounted  the  box  and  drove  away,  slowly  at 
first,  but  as  the  grim  walls  of  the  prison  were  gradually  swallowed 
up  in  the  thick  fog,  he  quickened  his  speed.  Turning  into  a  deserted 
side  street  he  brought  the  horses  to  a  stop.  Climbing  down  from 
his  perch,  he  joined  the  still  unconscious  man  within.  After  clos- 
ing the  door  of  the  hack  securely,  he  proceeded  to  change  his  prison 
garb  for  the  clothes  worn  by  his  passenger;  after  making  his  toilet 
in  this  manner,  he  looked  for  the  cabman's  dry  weather  hat.  Find- 
ing this  under  a  flap  in  the  cushioned  seat,  he  adjusted  it,  then  the 
waterproof  hat  was  donned  over  this.  The  hat  and  shoes  were  as 
he  had  calculated,  a  fair  fit.  On  ^  placing  the  penholder  and  keys 
in  an  inside  pocket,  his  hand  came  in  contact  with  something  he  had 
not  felt  for  years — money;  stopping  to  investigate  no  further,  ht 
looked  at  the  watch  in  the  vest  pocket,  and  noted  that  it  was  5  :32, 
just  seventeen  minutes  from  the  time  he  passed  through  the  prison 
gate  to  freedom.  Peering  in  every  direction,  as  far  as  the  dense  fog 
and  blinding  sheet  of  rain  would  permit,  he  satisfied  himself  that 
the  coast  was  clear,  then  raising  the  limp  form  in  his  arms  deposited 
it  on  the  curb.  As  the  rain  struck  his  face  the  cabby  began  to  revive. 
Seeing  this,  number  "49"  closed  the  cab  door  and  drove  off  at  a 
smart  pace.  Keeping  up  this  gait  for  four  or  five  blocks  he  swung 
into  another  gloomy  side  street,  more  deserted  than  the  former; 
stopping  about  the  middle  of  the  block,  he  once  more  descended  and 
entered  the  rig.  When  he  reappeared  the  governor  of  the  prison 
himself  would  have  failed  to  recognize  him.  H'is  face  and  hands, 


WICKED  CITY.  35 

once  so  light  and  fair,  were  dark  as  a  Spaniard's — the  fluid  had  done 
its  work,  and  done  it  well.  Leaving  the  team  exposed  to  the  raging 
elements,  as  he  had  their  faithful  owner,  he  slouched  away,  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  bringing  his  shoulders  to  a  decided  stoop. 
Striking  Southampton  street,  he  passed  along  this,  and  soon  found 
himself  in  the  strand.  Here  there  was  life  in  plenty,  in  spite  of  the 
rain,  and  thousands  of  honest  wage-earners  brushed  by  the  convict  on 
their  way  home.  Passing  swiftly  along  through  this  scurrying, 
bustling,  chattering  throng  of  humanity,  he  turned  into  a  side  street 
which  furnished  a  short  cut  to  Black  Friars. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"A  BOOZING  KEN." 

Following  this  street  some  distance  he  turned  into  the  doorway 
of  a  low  "boozing  ken."  In  this  place  was  the  average  crowd  of 
hangers-on  that  usually  patronize  such  low  groggeries.  Paying  no 
heed  to  the  greedy  and  curious  looks  he  threaded  his  way  through 
the  motley  gathering  to  a  rear  room  or  stall,  where  he  took  a  chair 
and  pressed  a  small  button  just  over  his  head,  which  read,  "When 
dry  push  me."  A  denizen  of  the  street  appeared  before  the  waiter, 
one  of  those  Who  had  noted  his  entrance  while  lounging  in  the  outer 
room  waiting  for  prey.  "Oie  soiye,  oi  am  dry,  me  'earty,  so  oie 
am.  Just  stake  us  to  a  drink,  will  yer."  At  this  moment  the 
waiter  appeared  to  take  the  order.  "Here,  waiter,  bring  me  a 
smlall  bottle  with  glasses  for  two;  also  send  your  master  to  me  at 
once,  and  as  you  go  along  take  this  booze  grafter  out  and  show  her 
the  town  pump;  she  says  she  is  dry,  you  know."  "Come  on, 
Happy  Sal ;  get  a  move  on  yer  and  'blow,'  the  gent  is  a  little  choice 
of  his  company.  Go  and  hunt  up  a  'live  un.'  "  Urged  thus  by 
the  waiter,  the  "beer  lusher,"  who  had  picked  the  convict  out  for  a 
"mark,"  shambled  off  in  disgust  at  her  luck.  The  bottle  and  two 
soon  made  their  appearance,  as  did  the  master,  who  was  plainly 
an  American,  and  one  in  whose  face  crime's  trademark  was  stamped 
with  startling  vividness.  As  he  deposited  the  order  upon  the  beer- 
stained  table,  he  peered  cautiously  into  the  face  of  his  customer. 
"Yer  want  to  see  me,  did  ye  say?"  "Yes,  I  did  say  so,  and  I  am  glad 
I  found  you  in.  Graft  on  the  outside  must  be  kind  of  light,  or  I 
would  not  have  been  so  fortunate."  "'Graft!'  what  do  you  mean?  I 
don't  know  youse."  "You  don't  know  me?  I  am  glad  to  hear 
that,  too.  That  is  the  best  news  you  could  tell  me;  or  unless, 
on  a  second  thought,  it  was  that  you  had  discovered  the  secret  of 
the  clock."  "Clock,  clock,  what  yo  givin'  us?  I  don't  twig  your 
handle,  and  I  ^don't  know  nuthin'  about  er  clock.'  "Now,  then 
my_'Chicago  friend'  and  prospective  'hemp  stretcher,'  come  down  to 
business,  take  a  seat  and  share  this  wine  with  me,  which  we  will 
drink  at  your  expense,  and  tell  me  a  few  things  I  want  to  know," 
number  "49"  replied  in  the  words  and  manner  suitable  to  the  place 
and  conditions.  Under  the  influence  of  those  eyes,  he  mechanically 
obeyed,  pale  and  interested  since  "49"  spoke  of  Chicago  and  "hemp." 
Pouring  out  the  drinks  with  a  trembling  hand,  he  waited  for  his 
customer  to  begin,  which  he  did  without  more  parley.  "You  don't 
know  me ;  that  is  very  good."  As  he  spoke  he  straightened  up  and 
threw  back  his  head.  "Now  look  into  my  eyes.  Do  you  know  me 

(Continued  on  page  143.) 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


87 


NOTICE ! 


TF  you  are  interested  in  the  prizes  to  be  awarded  to 
1  the  readers  of  this  book,  note  the  following 
offers. 

To  the  reader  who  discovers  the 

"HIDDEN  SENTENCE" 

that  reveals  the  first  secret  of  THE  MYSTERIOUS 
CLOCK,  will  receive  as  first  prize  a  Beautijul  Sum- 
mer Cottage.  On  exhibition  at  Fishers  Lake,  Mich. 
Picture,  460  Monon  Bldg. 

To  the  reader  "who  discovers  a 

"HIDDEN   WORD" 

that  reveals  the  second  secret  ticked  off  by  this  won- 
derful clock,  will  receive  as  second  prize  a  Genuine 
Diamond  Ring  (weighing  2  karats). 

To  the  reader  -who  discovers  the 

"HIDDEN  SENTENCE" 

that  solves  the  "CHICAGO  MURDER  MYS- 
TERY," will  receive  as  third  prize,  a  beautiful  Piant, 


Prize  offers  continued  on  fage  345. 
See  $ages  1 13-141. 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


OPINIONS  AND  DISCUSSIONS  BY  PEOPLE  OF  NOTE. 

John  G.  Shedd. 

Hon.   Luther   Laflin   Mills,   Eminent  Jurist. 
Alexander   Finn,   British   Consul. 
W.    S.  Jackson,   President  Board  of  Trade. 
Mayor  Dunne. 
William  Jennings  Bryan. 
Jailer  Whitman  and  Sheriff  Barrett. 
Police  Chiefs  Collins,- O'Neil  and  Badenoch. 
Dr.  G.  Frank  Lydson  and  Dr.  Wm.  M.  Harsha,  Eminent  Crim- 
inalogists. 

Father  O'Callahan  of  the  Paulist  Fathers. 
Judge  Prindiville. 
Judge  Brentano. 

J.  H.   Schumacher,   Sup't   Pinkerton's   Detective  Agency. 
M.  E.  Murphy,  Warden  State  Penitentiary. 
P.  R.  Cahn,  President  of  Stock  Exchange. 
Senator  Toy. 

W.  L.  Messer,  Gen'l  Sec'y  Y.  M.  C.  A. 
Captain  Adrian  C.  Anson. 
Lady  Helen  Forbes. 
Kang-Yu-Wai,   Chinese   Reformer. 
J.  G.  Hudson,  English  Educator. 
Judge  Lannin. 
Judge  Smith. 

W.  Kirk  Bryce,  English  Parson. 
Percy  Vincent  Donovan. 
Jules  Huret,  French  Novelist. 
Chas.  A.  Stevens. 
Alexander  Revell. 
R.  E.  Burke,  Old-time  Politician. 
J.  F.  Atkinson,  Sup't  Chicago  Boys'  Club. 
(38) 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


OPINIONS  CONTINUED. 


Prince  Henry  of  Prussia. 

Mrs.  ,  Sup't  Chicago  Orphan  Asylum. 

Jane  Addams,  Hull  House. 

Thomas   Lawson. 

M.  Nubr,  Austro-Hungarian  Consul. 

Alderman  Michael  M.  Kenna. 

Mr.  Richard  Carle. 

Opinion  from  a  Desperate  Crook  of  the  "Wicked  City. 

Henry  Brouland,  ex-Vice  Consul,  Paris. 

L.  M.  Smith,  Banker. 

The  Rev.  F.  C.  Bruner,  and  others. 

Young  &  M-cCombs  of  the  Island. 

•Commissioner  Bingham,  New  York. 

Director  Moore,-  Pittsburg. 

Sup't   McQuade,    Pittsburg. 

Chief  Delaney,  Denver. 

Chief  Taylor,  Philadelphia. 

Lieutenant  Miller,  Milwaukee. 


If  the  pages  containing  opinions  by  the  above  are  read  under- 
standingly,  it  will  prove  that  the  once  wicked  city  is  positively 
being  redeemed.  The  title  "Wicked  City"  has  been  chosen  mainly 
for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  your  attention  to  the  facts. 


OPINIONS  OF  "WICKED  CITY." 


In  the  Rev.  Frank  C.  Bruner's  sermon  on  "Chicago,  the  Black 
City,"  at  the  Oakwoods  Union  Church  (delivered  before  Chicago 
was  redeemed),  he  said: 

"The  wickedness  of  Chicago  is  appalling.  The  intercession  of 
the  Man  of  Gallilee  at  the  throne  now  is  for  the  sins  of  Chicago. 

"A  greater  center  of  devilism  is  not  to  be  found  on  the  continent. 
It  is  not  all  the  fault  of  the  city  authority.  The  people  will  have  it 
so.  Money  is  king.  When  the  modern  golden  calf  is  worshipped 
with  intense  devotion  the  growing  ulcer  of  crime  will  continue  to 
damn  the  innocent,  because  of  evil  environment. 

"No  wonder  Christ,  the  advocate,  on  his  Olivet  in  the  sky,  be- 
holds the  city  and  weeps  over  it.  The  sorrow  in  one  hour  of  night 
is  enough  to  break  the  heart  of  God.  A  single  night  would  pale  into 
insignificance  some  sections  of  nethermost  hell.  The  epidemical 
elements  have  been  fostered  in  Chicago  until  the  city  has  been  satu- 
rated with  the  poison  of  sin,  incurable  as  leprosy. 

"The  same  sins — covetousness,  drunkenness  and  licentiousness 
— that  dominate  Chicago  caused  the  destruction  of  the  crime-loaded 
cities  behind  the  centuries.  God  is  no  respecter  of  persons.  The 
hope  is  to  get  rid  of  sin." 


PROVING    REDEMPTION. 

Mayor  Dunne  gave  the  following  interview  from  the  bosom  of 
his  family.  He  thinks  well  of  the  city  he  calls  his  own.  He 
says,  "Chicago  is  now  as  pure  morally  as  any  large  city  in  the  world. 
There  is  no  public  gambling;  it  is  absolutely  discountenanced.  Con- 
cert halls,  dance  halls  and  recruiting  stations  for  vice  have  been  sup- 
pressed. To-day  a  man  may  walk  upon  the  streets  of  Chicago  with 
less  danger  of  being  solicited  by  courtesans  than  in  any  city  in  the 
world.  Grafting  and  political  corruption  among  the  public  officials 
of  the  city  have  been  minimized  year  by  year  until  to-day  there  is 
less  than  there  has  been  at  any  time  for  half  a  century. 

"Chicago  is  the  nerve  center  of  industrial  America,  and  the  most 
enterprising  city  in  the  world.  The  evil  reputation  which  it  bears  is 

(10) 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  41 

due' to  two  causes:  a  too  enterprising  but  unmeaningly  disloyal 
press  and  the  natural  rivalry  of  cities. 

"By  the  latter  I  mean  that  financial  and  industrial  institutions 
of  other  cities  make  stock,  as  it  were,  of  the  slandering  Chicago 
does  of  herself  through  her  own  press.  And  by  the  first  I  mean  that 
Chicago  being  the  nerve  center,  is  the  very  home  of  sensation  and  the 
enterprise  of  our  press  is  oftentimes  sensational.  Take  for  example 
the  late  great  industrial  struggle.  Thousands  of  teamsters  struck 
and  war  was  declared  between  them  and  their  employers.  Every 
day  the  papers  were  filled  with  stories  under  glaring  headlines  of 
rioting,  shots  fired,  people  killed  and  wounded  and  terror  through- 
put the  city.  Why,  any  sane  man  on  his  way  to  visit  Chicago,  see- 
ing one  of  these  papers,  would  seriously  consider  turning  back. 

"Now  just  to  show  how  serious  all  this  trouble  has  been,  look  at 
this  list  showing  the  number  of  inmates  of  the  county  jail  for  the 
past  six  months  compared  with  the  same  months  of  the  year  before : 

January 614  Same  month 487 

February 643  494 

March 607  474 

April 647  486 

May 583  428 

June 534  438 

"These  figures  are  official,  but  during  the  three  months  we 
had  been  having  a  reign  of  terror  according  to  the  press.  Are 
these  figures  not  significant? 

"Chicago  is  the  most  cosmopolitan  city  in  the  world.  Every 
race,  nationality  and  religion  on  the  globe  is  represented  here  and 
in  consequence  struggles  are  bound  to  occur.  But  crime  is  not 
winked  at  nor  does  it  receive  any  sort  of  quasi-recognition  in  public. 
In  fact,  the  life,  property  and  morals  of  our  citizens  and  the  sojourn- 
ers  within  our  gates  are  now  as  safe  as  in  any  city  in  the  world." 


Mr.  Alexander  Finn,  British  ConsuMo  Chicago,  says:  "Your 
city  compares  favorably  with  the  other  cities  of  the  world.  I  have 
met  many  charming  people  here  and  have  many  good  friends  among 
them.  You  have  a  very  busy  city  and  your  press  is  particularly 
enterprising.  I  believe  your  police  number  about  half  what  they 
should,  and  if  you  had  more,  these  holdups  that  are  occurring  so 
frequently  should  be  impossible.  I  lost  my  watch  some  two  months 
ago  on  a  State  street  car,  but  that  might  happen  anywhere,  in  Lon- 
don or  Paris. 

"Whatever  problems  you  have  to  confront  you  are  only  the 
result  of  the  city  not  having  become  grown  up  yet;  it  is  not  set- 
tled like  every  other  city  of  its  size.  But  on  the  whole,  I  am  very 
favorably  impressed  with  Chicago." 


42  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

Judge  Prindiville  was  next  interviewed  and  he  offered  no  objec- 
tions to  being  questioned;  but  it  is  strange  how  some  men  holding 
public  office  dislike  to  commit  themselves.  There  is  but  one  inevit- 
able question :  Why  ? 

The  invariable  first  question  was  put  to  him,  "What  is  your 
opinion  of  Chicago  as  the  Wicked  City?"  "Why  for  its  size  there  is 
now  less  wickedness  here  than  in  any  large  city  in  the  world — except 
in  the  line  of  labor  troubles."  "To  what  cause  do  you  contribute 
these  labor  troubles?"  came  next.  "I  can't  answer  that  question," 
he  replied.  "Well,  do  you  think  that  the  policies  of  past  administra- 
tions have  had  anything  to  do  with  it?"  "Humph,"  he  replied  and 
smiled  sweetly.  This  question  was  put  to  him  in  several  ways,  and 
finally  his  interrogator  suggested  that  perhaps  it  was  rather  a  deli- 
cate question  to  put  to  a  public  man.  He  laughed  and  said  it  was, 
but  finally  said,  "Well,  you  can  put  down  that  I  think  it  is  due  to 
our  cosmopolitan  population,  a  floating  population."  That  was  clever. 
"Then  you  really  think  that  the  political  feature  has  had  nothing  to 
do  with  it?"  "I  think  that  that  feature  has  been  given  too  much 
prominence." 

"What  do  you  think  of  the  handling  of  the  late  teamsters' 
strike?" 

"I  think  this  strike  has  been  handled  better  than  any  big  strike 
in  the  history  of  Chicago.  I  think  the  mayor  deserves  much  credit 
for  his  work.  It  is  the  first  time  that  police  have  ever  been  placed 
on  the  wagons  to  protect  them  and  their  drivers." 

"What  do  you  think  of  the  efficiency  of  the  police?"  "The  police 
are  a  very  efficient  body.  They  have  a  vast  territory  to  cover  and 
very  few  men  to  cover  it,  and  they  are  constantly  meeting  with  the 
most  difficult  of  conditions.  As  a  body  they  are  far  superior  to  that  of 
New  York."  Then  we  reverted  to  conditions  in  the  city  in  general, 
and  he  said,  "There  was  a  time  when  there  was  much  wickedness 
here,  but  in  the  last  few  years  there  has  been  an  absolute  change : 
the  tone  of  the  whole  city  is  changed.  The  city  was  full  of 
panel  houses,  gambling  houses,  confidence  rooms,  and  confidence 
men  swarmed  about  the  depots.  Why  right  across  the  street  the 
whole  block  was  full  of  gambling  and  confidence  rooms,  and  they 
were  right  here  in  this  very  building.  (We  were  in  the  justice  court 
rooms  on  Clark  street  at  the  time).  But  there  has  been  a  complete 
change  in  the  entire  moral  tone  of  the  city.  Why  even  in  the  cify 
council  there  is  a  difference.  The  type  of  aldermen  is  different. 
There  is  less  real  low  vice  here  than  in  any  city  in  the  world.  Chi- 
cago is  a  good  clean  city  and  I  am  in  a  position  to  know.  I  have 
been  closely  associated  with  the  criminal  classes  for  years." 

"What  do  you  think  of  the  parole  system?"  "I  think  that  too 
much  leniency  is  shown  to  pardoned  criminals.  It  is  the  cause  for 
much  crime.  And  it  is  very  discouraging  to  the  police  to  take  a 
man,  convict  him  and  then  have  him  at  large  again  in  a  few  months' 
time."  "What  is  the  reason  for  this  leniency?"  "It  is  due  to  a 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  43 

mistaken  sense  of  mercy  and  good  heartedness  on  the  part  of  the 
board  of  pardons  and  enterprising  reformers." 

"What  do  you  think  is  the  cause  for  the  reputation  Chicago 
bears  outside  the  city?''  ''I  couldn't  say."  "Do  you  think  it  is  due 
to  over-zealousness  on  the  part  of  the  people?"  A  smile  and  a  shrug 
were  the  reply  to  this.  "Perhaps  this  is  a  little  like  the  other  ques- 
tion, a  little  too  delicate  to  answer."  "Yes,  sir."  "Then  you  haven't 
an  opinion  on  the  subject?"  ''Yes  I  have."  "Well,  put  it  some 
way."  "Well,  you  can  just  say  I  think  it  is  due  to  a  lack  of  civic 
pride." 

';Do  you  mean  by  that  that  you  believe  that  the  majority  of  the 
men  and  women  of  this  city  are  not  loyal  to  it?"  "No,  but  I'll  tell 
you :  When  this  was  a  town  of  100,000  every  man  here  talked  of 
nothing  but  Chicago ;  that's  how  it  got  its  name,  the  Windy  City. 
It's  what  made  the  city  what  it  is ;  but  you  know  as  well  as  I  do  that 
there  aie  people  now  who  are  making  a  business  of  knocking  the 
town  in  as  well  as  outside. 

************* 


Mr.  John  G.  Shedd,  ex-president  of  the  Commercial  Associa- 
tion, gave  the  following: 

"Chicago  is  now  one  of  the  best  cities  morally  in  the  world.  It 
has  its  black  spots ;  every  large  city  has  its  dark  places.  But  taken 
as  a  whole,  Chicago  is  one  of  the  most  moral  of  our  large  cities.  It 
has  received  in  the  past,  however,  many  harsh  criticisms ;  but  as  a 
city  it  is  bold  and  outspoken,  never  having  had  anything  to  conceal. 
As  in  every  large  city  it  has  at  times  been  badly  governed,  and  to 
the  casual  observer  conditions  sometimes  approached  the  wicked ; 
but  the  careful  observer  sees  less  drunkenness,  less  real  vice  and 
wickedness  and  more  on  the  whole  to  be  emulated  than  most  large 
European  or  American  cities. 

; "Given  good  government  all  the  time,  Chicago  with  her  great 
agricultural  and  manufacturing  surroundings  is  undoubtedly  the 
best  commercial  center  in  this  country  for  the  young  energetic  pro- 
gressive' man  to  enter  business.  Its  varied  resources  compel  the 
title,  'The  Great  Central  Market,'  which  has  been  so  aptly  applied 
to  it  by  the  merchants  of  the  city,  and  most  cordially  acknowledged 
by  its  most  energetic  competitors." 

Mr.  J.  H.  Schumacher,  general  superintendent  of  the  Pinker- 
ton  Detective  Agency  is  a  man  whose  knowledge  of  conditions  in 
the  cities  of  the  world  is  gained  from  actual  observation,  says : 


44  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

"Years  ago,  Chicago  was  not  the  city  it  is  to-day.  There 
was  much  crime,  many  holdups  and  safe-blowings  even  in  our  down- 
town district.  But  conditions  have  been  steadily  improving  until 
to-day  we  have  a  well  regulated  city,  comparing  favorably  with  the 
large  cities  of  the  country. 

"The  police  department  is  remarkably  efficient  in  that  good 
order  is  kept,  handicapped  as  they  are.  In  numbers  they  are  woe- 
fully small.  The  city  of  Havana,  Cuba,  has  nearly  if  not  quite  as 
many  as  Chicago,  and  has  only  300,000  people,  one-seventh  of  Chi- 
cago, similarly  even  in  Mexico.  Large  numbers  are  drawn  to  pro- 
tect manufacturing  interests,  and  the  balance  have  to  cover  the 
greatest  area  of  any  city  in  the  country. 

"Chicago  is  not  now  the  wickedest  city,  but  is  safe  and  well- 
regulated,  and  becoming  more  so  every  day. 


Mr.  Ed.  Murphy,  warden  of  the  State  Penitentiary,  says :  "Why 
no,  Chicago  is  not  a  wicked  city,  it  has  been  redeemed.  The  fact 
that  only  about  two-thirds  of  our  prisoners  are  from  Chicago,  is 
>an  excellent  showing.  And  the  police  are  badly  handicapped  in 
numbers,  too.  The  only  trouble  I  can  see  is  that  Chicago  has 
grown  at  a  pace  even  too  swift  for  Chicagoans." 


Father  O'Callahan  of  the  Paulist  Fathers,  whose  work  brings 
him  continually  in  contact  with  the  very  worst  conditions  of  our 
city,  said  that  the  worst  he  could  say  about  Chicago  was  that  it  was 
a  cross  between  a  city  and  a  border  mining  camp.  This,  though  it 
is  rather  hard  on  Chicago,  on  the  face  of  it  really  shows  that  the 
worst  fault  he  can  find  with  the  city  is  its  extreme  youth,  and  he 
makes  it  appear  like  an  overgrown  boy  who  stumbles  over  his  own 
big  feet  trying  to  follow  the  straight  and  narrow  path. 

************* 

Mrs.  L.  O.  Warder,  presiding  in  the  absence  of  Mrs.  Stocking, 
superintendent  of  the  Chicago  Orphan  Asylum,  expressed  her  opin- 
ion of  Chicago  by  relating  an  incident  that  occurred  some  time 
ago.  She  said:  "Not  long  ago,  among  a  party  of  ladies  that  I 
was  showing  through  the  institution,  was  a  sweet-faced  little  old 
lady  from  Virginia  who  was  visiting  Chicago  for  the  first  time. 
As  she  bade  me  good-bye,  she  said :  'Mrs.  Warder,  I  came  to  Chi- 
cago filled  with  stories  of  its  being  the  wickedest  city  in  the  world. 
But  if  it  is  so,  there  is  no  place  in  the  world  where  so  much  is 
being  done  to  relieve  that  wickedness.' " 

Mr.  John  J.  Badenoch  was  chief  of  police  in  Chicago  during  the 
time  when  the  notorious  "long  and  short  men"  were  committing  their 
depredations.  He  is  retired  now  and  has  left  public  service  forever. 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  45 

His  former  service  gave  him  the  experience  and  his  present  life  as 
a  private  citizen  has  given  him  breadth  of  vision,  so  he  is  now  able 
to  view  the  whole  as  a  landscape,  to  take  in  the  whole  situation  at  a 
glance,  and-he-need-not-be-afraid-to-talk.  He  is  first  and  foremost 
a  Chicagoan,  but  he  knows  our  city's  defects.  He  says :  "Chicago 
is  a  great  city,  but  not  a  wicked  one.  As  to  former  conditions  I 
will  say  that  the  city  has  improved  wonderfully  in  the  past  few 
years,  just  as  the  world  has  been  improving.  In  every  city,  how- 
ever, there  are  and  always  will  be  districts  in  which  there  is  wick- 
edness. These  places  are  always  just  between  the  business  locality 
and  the  residence  part  of  the  city.  They  can  be  scattered,  but  they 
will  always  exist  in  every  city." 

When  the  interviewer  asked  Mr.  Badenoch  about  the  "long  and 
short"  incident,  he  inadvertently  referred  to  it  as  a  "reign  of  terror," 
and  aroused  Mr.  Badenoch's  ire, 

"Reign  of  terror !  Nonsense !  We  are  having  the  same  thing 
happen  every  day  and  we  had  for  years  before  these  men  appeare'd 
on  the  scene.  Now  I'll  just  tell  you  why  it  was  that  we  were  three 
or  four  months  catching  those  men.  In  the  first  place,  they  were 
wise.  They  would  hold  up  a  couple  of  places  and  go  directly  to  their 

meeting   place  at   a   house  on  street,   divide   up   and   scatter, 

leaving  town  at  once  by  a  different  route  in  time  to  escape  the  drag- 
net sent  out  after  each  holdup.  Now  when  I  tell  you  how  we  got 
them  finally  you  will  see  how  the  police  are  hampered  by  the  laws. 
They  finally  held  up  the  offices  of  the  New  York  Biscuit  Co.,  large 
offices  filled  with  clerks  and  bookkeepers,  cashiers  and  private  officers. 
It  was  pay  day  in  the  factory  and  they  got  a  big  haul.  But  while 
they  held  this  great  office  force  at  bay  with  their  Colt  45s'  some  of 
the  men  in  the  office  had  presence  of  mind  enough  to  scrutinize 
them  carefully.  Just  think  of  it!  In  broad  daylight,  entirely  un- 
masked and  in  the  heart  of  the  city.  Well,  when  I  took  these  men 
through  the  rogue's  gallery  every  one  of  them  positively  identi- 
fied the  photos  of  this  gang.  But  I  told  them,  'You  are  mistaken, 
these  men  are  now,  every  one  of  them,  in  the  reformatory  at  Pon- 
tiac.'  But  to  make  sure  I  called  up  Major  dowry  at  the  reforma- 
tory and  he  said, :  'Yes,  these  men  are  all  here.'  'Well,'  I  told  him, 
'they  are  identified  here  as  having  held  up  a  place.'  He  asked  me 
to  wait  while  he  looked  it  up.  He  returned  to  the  'phone  and  said 
that  the  men  were  out  on  parole  and  had  been  for  some  time.  Well, 
later  they  were  under  arrest  and  we  had  to  go  to  the  British  pos- 
sessions to  get  them. 

"Now  here's  the  worst  part  of  it.  It  is  a  misdemeanor  for  the 
superintendent  of  the  reformatory  to  inform  the  police  when  a  man 
is  let  out  on  parole.  Now  nineteen  times  out  of  twenty  when  a 
man  is  taken  for  holdup  it  is  found  that  he  is  paroled  out  of  the 
reformatory,  to  which  he  was  sent  for  the  same  crime. 

"Now  this  thing  will  continue  until  either  the  force  is  made 
large  enough  to  cope  with  this  continued  renewal  of  the  ranks  of 
the  criminals  or  the  laws  are  changed  so  that  the  holdup  man  gets 


46  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

a  heavy  penalty  and  is  obliged  to  serve  it  out."  "Well,  how  about 
the  case  of  the  first  offense?"  he  was  asked.  "Young  man,"  he  said, 
"not  once  in  a  hundred  times  is  a  man  convicted  and  sentenced  on 
his  first  offense.  Just  write  that  in  your  book."  "Well,  what  is  the 
reason  that  it  is  a  misdemeanor  for  the  superintendent  of  the  reform- 
atory to  notify  the  police  when  a  man  is  paroled  ?"  "Just  this : 
Charitable  and  well-meaning  people  believe  that  when  a  man  is  once 
sentenced  and  shows  signs  of  reformation  he  should  have  the  chance 
to  reform,  and  they  have  heard  stories  of  men  trying  to  do  right 
hounded  by  the  police.  Now  that  won't  happen  once  in  a  thousand 
times,  while  the  great  majority  are  back  again  anyhow  for  the  same 
crimes  or  worse.  This  is  just  one  difficulty  the  police  here  have  to 
contend  with.  Another  is  their  lack  of  numbers,  far  below  what 
they  should  be,  and  another  is  the  lack  of  good  vagrancy  laws  of 
some  sort.  This  is  the  worst  obstacle.  When  a  well-known  and 
habitual  thief  or  crook  is  seen  on  the  streets,  instead  of  taking  him 
in  and  putting  him  away  and  continuing  this,  making  it  too  hot  for 
him  to  stay  here,  it  is  impossible  to  touch  him  unless  he  is  wanted 
for  some  particular  crime.  The  man  can  be  arrested  and  tried  for 
vagrancy  and  held  over.  He  gets  professional  bail  and  has  some 
saloon  keeper  let  him  do  a  few  jobs  about  his  place,  and  then  the 
saloon  keeper  testifies  that  the  crook  is  in  his  employ.  That's  all. 
Now  if  we  had  a  law  by  which  we  could  send  a  man  to  the  work- 
house or  out  stone-breaking,  it  would  make  Chicago  a  very  unde- 
sirable place  for  the  crook  to  stay.  But  the.  indeterminate  sen- 
tence and  the  parole  systems  are  responsible  for  more  crimes  than 
all  the  other  causes  together  and  is  responsible  for  90  per  cent,  of 
the  holdups." 

"What  do  you  think  is  the  reason  that  we  have  so  much  labor 
(rouble  here?"  he  was  asked.  "That  is  a  large  question,"  he  replied. 
"Well,  do  you  think  that  the  policy  of  past  administrations  in  cater- 
ing to  the  labor  classes  have  had  anything  to  dp  with  it?"  "1  am 
hardly  in  a  position  to  criticise  the  administration,  but  this  I  will 
say :  that  when  labor  agitators  first  really  commenced  active  work  in 
Chicago  we  were  at  the  commencement  of  a  great  wave  of  pros- 
perity, and  conditions  were  such  that  great  concessions  were  made 
by  employers  to  the  unions,  whether  just  or  otherwise,  because  they 
felt  that  they  could  not  afford  to  be  tied  up  at  that  time  by  running 
the  risk  of  business  stagnation.  These  conditions  have  encouraged 
the  leaders  to  make  ever  greater  demands."  "Well,  do  you  think 
that  the  practice  of  police  in  allowing  strikers  or  their  sympathizers 
to  gather  for  the  express  purpose  of  interfering  with  people  in  the 
pursuit  of  their  lawful  business  is  due  to  a  lenient  spirit  higher  up?" 
He  answered :  "If  any  officer  sees  any  man  or  group  of  men  inter- 
fering in  any  way  with  any  person  or  congregating  with  the  intent 
of  doing  so,  without  interfering,  he  is  guilty  of  neglecting  duty 'and 
should  be  punished  for  it.  And  if  any  officer  sees  any  man  assaulted 
and  makes  no  arrest  until  the  man  in  self-protection  resorts  to  vio- 
lence and  then  arrests  only  the  assaulted  man,  charges  should  be 


HERE  AND  THERE  ABOUT  THE  STREETS         47 


STRIKER  IN  DESPAIR.     A  KINDLY  POLICEMAN  TELLS  HIM  TO  CHEER  UPT 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


THE  AUTHOR  AND  HIS  SECRETARY  TRAVEL  FROM  JAIL  TO  JAIL  IN  A 

JAIL  ON   WHEELS,    STUDYING   SOCIOLOGICAL   CONDITIONS 

OF   "WICKED  CITY". 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  49 

preferred  against  him  by  his  accompanying  officer  so  that  he  might 
be  able  to  fully  explain  why  he  had  failed  to  do  his  duty  and  thus 
exonerate  himself  or  be  properly  punished  for  having  failed  to  do  so. 

"With  all  due  respect  for  the  position  of  the  mayor  of  the  city 
of  Chicago,  the  peace  of  the  city  has  been  destroyed,  rioting  has  been 
of  daily  and  hourly  occurrence  against  citizens  in  the  pursuit  of 
their  lawful  vocations.  I  believe  that  his  own  appointees  should  be 
summoned  before  a  police  justice  of  the  city.  When  the  comfort, 
peace  and  prosperity  of  a  city  is  interfered  with  there  should  be 
no  temporizing  on  the  part  of  the  justices  either.  Fines  of  from 
one  to  five  dollars  for  assaulting  and  beating  a  man  to  uncon- 
sciousness, and  these  paid  by  the  unions,  only  tend  to  encourage 
this  evil.  They  should  be  fined  the  limit  and  the  maximum  punish- 
ment should  be  a  fine  of  not  less  than '$500  or  one  year  in  jail  or 
both.  This  would  stop  it. 

'But  I  have  a  great  respect  for  the  Chicago  police  department. 
They  are  a  brave  and  fearless  lot  of  men  and  are  eminently  officered. 
They  have  done  wonders  in  years  past  in  doing  all  they  have  done 
to  cleanse  and  purify  our  city  when  in  proportion  to  our  population 
they  are  weaker  than  any  police  force  in  the  country.  And  the  pres- 
ent chief  is  of  great  energy,  absolute  integrity  and  absolutely  trust- 
worthy in  every  way  and  an  excellent  officer." 


Mr.  Whitman,  who  for  twelve  years  has  been  in  active  charge 
of  the  Cook  County  jail,  gave  the  interviewer  the  full  benefit  of  his 
thorough  knowledge  and  experience.  He  said:  "Chicago  is  not  a 
crime  center  now,  and  criminally  is  no  worse  than  any  other  city  in 
the  country.  There  are  very  few  habitual  criminals  at  large  here 
and  criminality  itself  is  on  the  decrease.  The  inmates  of  the  county 
jail  are  principally  young  men  who  are  just  developing  from  the 
hoodlum  class.  This  is  a  significant  fact  and  shows  that  the  worst 
conditions  we  have  to  deal  with  are  those  which  make  it  possible 
for  some  boys  to  grow  up  knowing  nothing  but  the  vicious  side 
of  life. 

"But  while  this  and  many  other  evil  conditions  exist  here,  as 
they  do  in  every  large  city,  Chicago  is  not  blind  to  the  fact  nor 
unheeding.  The  juvenile  court,  the  parental  school,  social  and 
industrial  settlements,  parks,  playgrounds  and  recreation  places  and 
other  influences  are  being  established  in  the  slums,  and  these  are  all 
tending  to  elevate  the  youth  morally  and  help  to  lead  their  steps 
away  from  crime  and  its  consideration." 

Mr.  Whitman  has  established  numerous  innovations  in  the  jail 
and  one  of  them  is  a  school  for  boys.  All  the  boys  from  16  to  19 
years  of  age  are  at  liberty  to  attend.  Mrs.  has  charge  of 

NOTE — To  Mr.  Whitman  is  d'ue  the  credit  for  having  finally 
found  a  man  to  take  up  and  push  the  work  of  starting  the  first 
juvenile  court  in  the  land. 


50  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

the  school  and  there  is  no  guard  to  assist  her  and  no  compulsion 
is  used.  The  boys  work  diligently  and  well  and  immediately  show 
a  desire  to  learn  and  an  ambition  to  do  better.  Recently  during 

two  weeks'  absence  of  Mrs.  ,  the  boys  elected  one  of  their 

number  to  lead  their  work,  and  Mr.  Whitman  says  that  in  his  daily 
visits  to  the  school  he  never  once  found  the  least  signs  of  disorder 
or  negligence,  and  all  showed  their  pride  in  being  found  doing  the 
right. 

"Now  then,"  said  Mr.  Whitman,  "if  these  influences  were 
brought  to  bear  before  he  reaches  the  age  of  crime,  the  next  genera- 
tion would  be  infinitely  freer  of  criminals  than  this.  Why,  our 
very  newspapers  are  a  great  factor  in  the  making  of  criminals.  I 
appreciate  fully  the  value  of  the  press  in  unearthing  crime  and  the 
value  of  the  information  often  given  in  its  columns ;  but  the  detailed 
and  magnified  stories  of  daring  crimes  committed  by  would-be  ban- 
dits appeal  to  the  hoodlum  class  in  such  a  way  as  to  inspire  them 
to  attempted  emulation. 

"Another  evil  which  comes  very  often  to  my  notice  and  which 
has  a  very  simple  remedy,  is  the  parole  system  of  releasing  prison- 
ers which  now  obtains.  When  a  man  leaves  the  penitentiary  at 
Joliet  on  parole  he  is  allowed  to  go  to  just  one  place  and  that  place 
is  nearly  always  Chicago.  He  comes  here  equipped  with  a  suit  of 
clothes  and  ten  dollars  in  cash.  Now  have  you  any  idea  how  hard 
it  is  for  an  ex-convict  to  obtain  employment?  Well,  it  is  next  to 
impossible,  no  matter  how  worthy  of  assistance  the  man  may  be. 
And  he  is  here  in  a  big  city  friendless  and  alone.  His  ten  dollars 
are  soon  gone  and  he  is  immediately  thrown  among  evil  companions, 
the  only  ones  he  can  find,  for  the  man  must  have  companionship 
of  some  sort.  The  result  is  that  in  spite  of  all  his  good  resolutions 
he  is  on  the  high  road  to  becoming  a  confirmed  criminal  and  of 
necessity. 

"Then,  too,  every  strike  we  have  develops  its  quota  of  criminals. 
These  continued  and  useless  strikes  are  constantly  forcing  men 
otherwise  honestly  employed  out  of  work,  and  what  is  more,  keep 
them  out  of  work  when  he  and  his  family  may  be  starving1.  Many 
a  holdup  man  has  been  made  by  the  desperation  of  his  condition  due 
to  this  evil. 

"We  have  been  getting  back  to  causes,  so  let  us  look  for  the 
cause  of  this.  Now  the  unions  are  powerful  organizations  and  a 
very  useful  thing  politically,  and,  recognizing  the  vote-getting  power 
of  the  leaders  of  the  unions,  men  high  up  in  positions  of  trust  in 
our  administration  have  for  years  past  given  them  ever  freer  rein 
until  the  climax  of  the  past  strike.  But  the  firm  stand  taken 
by  the  present  administration  has  effectually  stopped  the  usual  de- 
moralizing and  vicious  features. 

"No,  our  city  is  not  clean  yet,  but  every  year  sees  a  little  of  the 
smudge  rubbed  off  and  a  bit  more  white  showing  through." 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  51 

It  is  a  significant  fact  that  those  men  who  are  most 
familiar  with  the  evil  which  exists  in  Chicago  all  go  back  of  the 
evil  and  look  to  its  cause.  The  result  of  this  is  that  institutions 
have  been  organized  for  the  elimination  of  that  cause.  One  of  these 
and  one  which  is  doing  a  noble  work  is  the  Chicago  Boys'  Club, 
which  has  for  its  superintendent  Mr.  J.  F.  Atkinson.  This  is  a  club 
of  newsboys,  bootblacks  and  street  gamin,  and  it  furnishes  a  place 
of  recreation,  industrial  education  and  moral  and  mental  improve- 
ment. In  it  are  baths,  games,  reading  and  lecture  rooms,  and  work 
and  class  rooms. 

The  boys  may  choose  any  of  several  branches  of  work :  shoe- 
making,  basket  weaving,  carpentry,  drawing  and  others,  and  they 
are  allowed  the  liberty  of  the  other  departments  at  certain  times. 
Soon  after  the  club  was  opened  the  boys  showed  such  interest  and 
enthusiasm  and  they  came  in  such  numbers  that  it  was  found  neces- 
sary to  limit  the  membership  to  boys  under  14  years  of  age.  And 
now  less  than  half  of  those  seeking  membership  can  be  accommo- 
dated. The  following  is  an  illustration  of  the  work  this  club  does : 

Mr.  Atkinson  has  conducted  similar  clubs  in  London  and  in  New 
York.  He  says :  "Chicago,  while  it  ranks  favorably  with  other 
American  cities  morally,  is  below  London,  and  the  reason  for  this 
is  that  London  is  not  a  city  of  politics,  while  Chicago  is  all  politics. 
As  to  the  criminal  question,  it  is  a  fact  that  the  majority  of  our 
criminals  come  from  our  street-boy  class. 

"Chicago  has  more  newsboys,  bootblacks  and  street  arabs  than 
any  city  in  the  world,  and  they  are  of  a  lower  type.  We  have  an 
excellent  school  system  here,  and  I  am  not  trying  to  discredit  the 
fact;  but  while  the  policeman  and  truant  officer  are  dragging  the 
boys  to  school  we  can't  drive  them  out.  So  I  say  that  the  key  to 
the  street-boy  problem  is  industrial  education.  He  is  bright  as  steel, 
and  quick  as  double-geared  lightning.  He  knows  nothing  of  law 
and  order,  nothing  of  decency,  and  he  runs  wild.  He  is  the  off- 
spring of  the  riff-raff  from  all  parts  of  the  earth.  He  is  brought 
up  in  foul,  vicious,  fetid  atmosphere,  and  he  has  absolutely  no  moral 
sensibility.  He  does  not  know  right  from  wrong.  To  him  there 
is  no  principle  involved  in  the  act  of  theft.  His  ambition  is  to  get 
his  plunder  and  get  away,  and  the  one  who  gets  the  most  and  gets 
away  is  a  hero.  And  they  are  all  alike  until  we  get  them.  And  I 
am  here  to  demonstrate  the  difference  between  dull  book  work,  asso- 
ciated with  girls,  and  compelled  as  with  a  club,  and  the  method  of 
treating  the  boy  kindly  and  gaining  his  interest.  Under  this  system 
and  the  good^  influences  with  which  we  surround  him  while  here, 
the  good  in  him  gushes  up  like  a  fountain  of  clear  water,  and  I  tell 
you  that  out  of  these  boys  we  are  making  doctors,  lawyers  and  keen 
upright  business  men.  A  similar  club  in  every  ward  in  the  city 
would  practically  eliminate  the  young  criminal." 

Miss  Jane  Addams,  who  is  the  head  of  the  famous  Hull  House, 
the  greatest  charitable  institution  of  its  kind  in  the  world,  refused 


52  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

to  be  interviewed  on  the  subject,  saying  only  that  in  her  opinion 
more  harm  had  been  done  to  Chicago  by  people  making  off-hand 
criticisms  of  the  city  and  conditions  existing  in  it  than  in  any  other 
way.  As  a  reason  for  her  refusal  to  make  any  statement  she  said 
that  she  thought  no  one  had  a  right  to  give  an  opinion  without  first 
having  looked  up  statistics  and  making  exact  comparisons.  Con- 
sidering her  years  of  sociological  study  and  her  position  as  head  of 
Hull  House,  the  interview  was  disappointing;  but  her  work  de- 
serves highest  praise. 


In  the  foregoing  we  have  given  the  views  of  men  familiar  with 
life  in  Chicago  in  all  its  phases,  but  they  have  all  viewed  it  from 
one  standpoint,  that  of  the  virtuous  man.  So  in  order  not  to  over- 
look any  view  that  might  be  beneficial  or  of  interest,  we  decided  that 
it  was  but  fair  to  include  among  those  interviews  one  at  least  from 
a  man  whose  whole  life  has  been  that  of  an  habitual  criminal.  His 
record  shows  that  he  is  familiar  with  crime  from  his  standpoint  at 
least.  He  has  served  four  sentences  in  the  penitentiary  at  Joliet  for 
larceny,  robbery,  burglary  and  murder.  Besides  this  he  has  been 
convicted  of  crime  nine  times  in  the  criminal  courts  in  Chicago  and 
admits  that  at  least  a  dozen  times  he  has  been  tried  for  crimes  here 
of  which  he  was  guilty  and  not  convicted,  either  for  lack  of  evi- 
dence or  for  other  reasons.  In  addition  to  this  he  has  been  convicted 
of  crimes  in  St.  Louis,  New  York  and  Milwaukee  and  has  a  crim- 
inal record  in  several  other  cities. 

His  record  of  non-convictions  in  Chicago  is  certainly  a  reflec- 
tion upon  either  our  police  or  our  courts  of  the  past,  and  he  ex- 
plains it  fully.  He  says  :  "There  is  less  crime  in  Chicago  than  in 
either  New  York  or  St.  Louis  ;  there  is  less  gambling  and  there  arc 
no  confidence  rooms  any  more.  But  the  police  can't  touch  those  of 
New  York  in  efficiency."  When  asked  how  it  happened  that  he  had 
been  arrested  here  so  many  times  he  explained  it  as  follows  :  "Why, 
they  never  took  me  when  I  was  sober.  I  was  always  drunk  and 
somebody  tipped  me  off."  In  reply  to  the  question,  "How  did  it 
happen  that  you  were  not  convicted  when  you  were  tried  those 
dozen  or  more  times?"  he  said,  "Why,  in  the  police  courts  al- 
most any  man  with  a  little  influence  in  those  days  could  have  a 
case  quashed  for  almost  any  crime."  He  was  asked,  "As  a  class, 
are  the  majority  of  the  criminals  here  in  Chicago  professionals?" 
and  said,  "No,  they  are  mostly  young  fellows  and  green  at  the 
business."  Then  he  was  asked,  "Where  do  the  real  criminals 
make  their  headquarters."  He  replied,  "Mostly  in  New  York." 
"How  do  you  account  for  this  fact?"  "Why,  they  only  come 
west  to  make  their  money  and  go  east  to  spend  it  just  like  any- 
body else  that  has  money."  "Why  is  this?"  "Well,"  he  said, 
'a'  man  has  more  latitude  here;  it  is  easier  to  get  off  if  you  get 
caught."  Then  he  volunteered  the  information  that  a  man  can 
be  known  by  the  police  here  to  be  a  crook  and  walk  the  streets 
with  perfect  impunity  unless  he  happens  to  be  wanted,  while  in 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  53 

almost  any  other  city,  in  the  east  particularly,  he  would  be  taken  in 
and  given  very  short  notice  to  get  out  of  town." 

His  statements  are  somewhat  contradictory,  but  they  are  food 
for  thought  at  least  and  we  have  reason  to  believe  that  he  is  honest 
in  them. 


Dr.  G.  Frank  Lydston,  prominent  surgeon  and  eminent  crim- 
inologist,  is  very  radical  in  his  views,  but  his  remarks  show  that 
he  has  investigated  this  subject  thoroughly.  He  says: 

"Facetiously  and  otherwise  Chicago  has  been  said  to  be  the 
wickedest  city  in  the  world.  This  is  a  bold  statement  and  one  dif- 
ficult to  substantiate,  but  there  is  enough  evidence  to  support  it. 
In  a  recent  annual  report  from  the  State's  attorney's  office,  it  was 
shown  that  the  criminal  court  of  Cook  County  exceeded  in  volume  of 
business  any  similar  tribunal  in  the  world.  A  few  years  ago  the 
number  of  criminals  arraigned  in  one  year  was  nearly  200  in  excess 
of  the  number  arraigned  in  London.  The  labor  troubles  in  Chicago 
have  shown  conclusively  that  a  wholesome  respect  for  law  and 
order  is  not  Chicagoesque,  not  that  the  same  sort  of  disturbances 
which  have  occurred  in  Chicago  have  not  and  will  not  again  occur 
in  other  cities.  They  are  more  marked  in  Chicago  because  it  is  the 
most  American  of  American  cities.  Personally,  I  am  inclined  to 
believe  that  America  at  large  is  more  inclined  to  turbulence  than 
most  of  us  are  willing  to  admit.  That  Chicago  is  the  storm  center 
of  the  conflict  between  labor  and  capital  is  probably  explicable  by 
the  dominance  of  political  influences  in  the  management  or  mis- 
management of  social  disorders." 


Mr.  Richard  Carle,  one  of  Chicago's  foremost  comedians,  at- 
tempted very  diplomatically  to  turn  the  interviewer  over  to  his 
manager,  but  finally  admitted  himself  that  he  thought  Chicago  is  a 
very  good  place  to  live  in.  He  said  that  disturbances  of  all  sorts, 
criminal  and  otherwise,  occur  in  other  cities  just  as  they  do  here, 
but  the  press  does  not  make  so  much  of  them.  In  New  York,  for 
instance,  they  are  absolutely  suppressed.  Chicago  people  like  to 
tell  on  themselves,  he  says,  and  the  press  doesn't  have  any  conscien- 
tious scruples  about  doing  so  either. 


Mr.  Luther  Laflin  Mills  is  known  throughput  the  country  as  an 
able  legal  adviser,  a  man  of  keen  discernment  and  absolute  fairness. 
He  says: 

"To  a  resident  of  Chicago  who  is  familiar  with  its  conditions 
of  life  the  prejudice  which  is  said  to  exist  against  it  in  other  parts 
of  the  country — a  prejudice  arising  from  the.  lawlessness  and  social 
disorder  which  are  assumed  to  characterize  it — appears  to  be  not 
only  unreasonable  but  preposterous,  in  view  of  the  city's  history  and 


54  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

facts  which  exist  to-day.  Having  lived  in  Chicago  nearly  all  my 
life  and  having  long  observed  its  many  social  phases,  I  do  not  hesi- 
tate to  say  that  there  never  has  been  a  time  during  the  last  fifty 
years  when  it  could  not  be  compared  favorably  with  any  other 
American  city  in  the  character  of  its  people  and  their  regard  for 
law  and  order.  There  is  no  community  in  the  world  which  can 
boast  more  influences  actively  and  aggressively  civilizing  and  human- 
izing; there  is  none  which  has  a  more  sensitive  public  conscience. 
"It  is  true  that  Chicago,  like  all  other  large  communities,  has 
imperfections  and  characteristics  to  be  criticized,  and  that  reforms 
are  demanded.  It  is  true,  also,  that  it  possesses  a  citizenship  whose 
remarkable  reformatory  tendency  and  power  are  recognized  by 
thoughtful  men  throughout  Christendom.  The  title  of  "The  Wicked 
City,"  as  applied  to  Chicago  especially  of  to-day,  has  no  justifica- 
tion, in  fact,  and  is  based  upon  an  undue  and  unjust  magnifying 
and  sensationalizing  of  evil  conditions  whose  virulence  and  extent 
are  limited,  and  which,  in  no  degree,  constitute  an  alarming  menace 
to  the  general  safety  of  prosperity  and  happiness." 


Alderman  Michael  Kenna,  otherwise  known  as  "Hinky  Dink," 
during  a  hasty  interview  just  before  his  departure  for  Europe,  said 
that  Chicago  is  not  a  wicked  city  now,  but  on  the  contrary  is  one 
of  the  best  regulated  cities  in  the  world,  but  that  a  great  change 
had  taken  place  in  the  past  few  years.  Illustrating  previous  condi- 
tions he  said:  "Why,  I  have  seen  burly  western  cattlemen  walk- 
ing through  our  down-town  streets,  hand  in  hand  and  three 
abreast,  each  afraid  to  let  go  of  the  other  for  fear  something  might 
happen  to  him." 


Mr.  Nubr,  Austro-Hungarian  consul,  was  diplomatic  in  his 
replies,  but  they  are  significant.  When  asked  what  he  thought  of 
Chicago,  he  replied:  "I  have  no  fault  to  find  with  Chicago  and  I 
am  not  obliged  to  stay  here  if  I  do  not  like  it.  I  could  have  myself 
removed."  "Then  you  find  it  a  pretty  good  place  to  live  in?" 
"Well,  I  have  been  here  for  several  years  and  have  just  returned 
from  an  extended  trip  abroad  and  you  see  I  have  returned." 


Mr.  Francis  O'Neill  (general  superintendent  of  police  at  time 
of  interview)  is  loyal  to  his  city  and  its  virtue.  He  has  his  griev- 
ance and  he  is  justified  in  letting  it  be  known.  He  says:  "Crim- 
inally and  socially,  Chicago  has  shown  a  vast  improvement  in  the 
past  few  years.  A  few  years  ago  panel  houses  flourished,  street 
walkers  abounded  and  confidence  men  were  not  very  rare.  Crim- 
inals of  all  sorts  were  plentiful  here.  None  of  these  conditions 
exist  to-day.  There  are  no  panel  houses,  few  street  walkers  and 
the  heart  of  the  city  has  been  cleaned.  In  the  past  four  years 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  55 

there  have  been  but  two  gangs  of  confidence  men  at  work 
here  and  to-day  they  are  all  in  jail.  Why  when  I 
was  in  charge  of  the  Harrison  street  police  station,  at  one  time  I 
knew  personally  of  twenty-two  opium  dens  in  one  precinct  alone. 
To-day  you  won't  find  an  opium  den  running  in  the  city  *  and  the 
wineroom  evil  has  been  suppressed.  Up  to  the  time  of  the  late 
strike,  Chicago  has  been  freer  of  crime  than  at  any  time  in  years. 
South  Clark  street  and  South  State  street,  the  old  Levee  districts, 
are  now  devoted  to  legitimate  business. 

"There  are  no  real,  habitual  criminals  who  make  their  head- 
quarters here.  Our  principle  trouble  is  a  floating  population.  They 
come  here  in  the  winter  from  all  over  the  country,  out  of  work, 
procure  a  cheap  revolver  and  every  once  in  a  while  go  out  and  stick 
a  few  people  up. 

"In  all  its  history  Chicago  has  never  had  but  four  quartets 
of  really  bad  holdup  men,  and  it  is  interesting  that  they  all  were 
under  twenty-five  years  of  age  and  few  of  them  had  any  previous 
criminal  record,  and  they  are  all  now  either  living  or  behind  the 
bars. 

"The  penitentiaries  of  none  of  our  neighboring  states  are  far 
from  Chicago  and  when  men  are  released  from  them  they  inva- 
riably congregate  here.  Last  year  the  county  jail  was  crowded 
with  just  such  men  and  the  House  of  Correction  was  so  full  that 
hundreds  had  to  be  pardoned  out  in  order  to  make  room  for  new- 
comers. 

"Now  a  certain  amount  of  crime  is  bound  to  exist  in  every 
large  city  and  we  must  have  at  least  enough  men  to  cope  with  this 
crime  under  normal  conditions.  Up  to  the  time  of  the  strike  Chi- 
cago had  600  less  regular  policemen  than  she  had  on  the  rolls  twelve 
years  ago  fewer  than  at  any  time  in  her  history  and  with  her  greater 
population  and  area  at  that.  Yet  we  maintained  an  orderly  city. 
Here  are  some  suggestive  figures  and  they  are  authentic.  These 
figures  will  show  an  interesting  comparison : 

"London,  area  690  square  miles,  17,000  police,  or  25  per  square 
mile. 

"New  York,  area  317  square  miles,  8,000  policemen,  or  25  per 
square  mile. 

"Chicago,  area  191  square  miles,  2,316  policemen  or  12.1  per 
square  mile. 

"London,  6,000,000  population,  has  1  policeman  to  each  353 
people. 

"New  York,  4,000,000  population,  has  1  policeman  to  each  500 
people. 

"Chicago,  2,000,000  population,  has  1  policeman  to  each  869 
people. 

*The  author  and  his  secretary  proved  this  fact.  They  searched 
the  city  for  a  month  to  get  a  snapshot  of  one  and  failed  to  unearth 
anything  more  than  an  enclosed  bunk  that  some  Chinaman  used 
himself. 


56  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

"But  even  working  under  this  disadvantage  we  have  a  cleaner 
and  more  orderly  city  than  any  city  of  its  size  in  the  world. 

"The  police  are  constantly  compelled  to  arrest  men  for  all  sorts 
of  crimes  who  are  either  out  of  prison  on  parole  or  who  have  just 
finished  a  sentence.  That  shows  that  there  is  something  wrong 
farther  on.  And  one  thing  I  know,  and  that  is  that  the  large  majority 
of  sentences  given  by  the  courts  are  not  severe  enough  and  the 
parole  system  makes  that  even  shorter.  Why  over  20  per  cent,  of 
the  men  who  are  out  on  parole  are  back  in  jail  again  before  their 
term  is  out.  And  it  is  not  fair  to  the  public  at  large  to  run  a  con- 
stant and  useless  risk  of  life  and  property  and  burden  themselves 
with  the  cost  of  maintaining  courts,  jails  and  an  immense  police 
force  simply  for  the  purpose  of  re-arresting  and  re-trying  bad  men. 

"Yes,  Chicago  has  a  bad  reputation  and  it  is  no  wonder.  Cer- 
tain newspapers  are  particularly  responsible  for  it.  Reporters  come 
to  the  hall  and  in  the  stations  over  the  city  and  ask  for  nothing 
but  scandal  and  graft  exposures  and  absolutely  refuse  to  publish 
anything  else.  Other  papers  over  the  country  copy  and  the  farther 
they  get,  the  worse  they  grow.  The  general  tendency  is  sensa- 
tional and  it  is  doing  Chicago  an  irretrievable  injury. 

"Here  is  a  sample  of  one  that  came  in  this  morning  and  our 

files  are  full  of  just  such.    The  first  is  a  clipping  from  the 

and  the  other  is  the  official  report  of  the  case. 

******* 

"The  great  merchant  prince,  Mr.  Graeme  Stewart  was  in  here 
just  before  he  was  taken  ill  and  speaking  of  the  harm  a  certain 
press  was  doing  the  city,  said  he  believed  steps  should  be  taken  to 
put  a  stop  to  it. 

"Any  report  which  goes  out  to  the  effect  that  the  Chicago  of 
to-day  is  disorderly  or  a  dangerous  place  to  live  in  has  no  sem- 
blance of  truth.  We  have  now  a  good,  clean,  orderly  city  and 
the  best  and  most  energetic  city  in  the  world  in  point  of  active, 
effective  reform  in  its  political  and  social  morals." 

The  social  conditions  of  Chicago  will  compare  favorably  with 
those  of  any  other  large  community,  and  yet,  "In  one  year  70,000 
persons  have  been  arrested  in  Chicago.  In  one  year  there  have 
been  17,000  boy  prisoners  in  Chicago.  Statistics  show  that  eighty- 
five  per  cent,  of  the  juvenile  criminals  in  Chicago  have  had  no 
religious  training." 

(Bishop  Coadjutor  C.  P.  Anderson.") 

"Formation  is  cheaper  than  reformation."  We  discuss  _  at 
length  the  tariff  question,  the  traction  question  and  the  question 
of  finance,  but  what  question  equals  that  of  the  salvation  of  Chi- 
cago's 8000  news  boys,  her  2000  store  and  office  boys,  her  1000  tele- 
graph messenger  boys,  her  scores  and  hundreds  of  waifs,  strays, 
sleep-outs,  etc.  ? 


WICKED  CITY   REDEEMED.  57 


'I'M  COUXTIV  MY  MONIES.' 


WICKED   CITY   REDEEMED. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE    "SLUMS," 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  59 

These  boys  are  victims  of  circumstances  over  which  they  have 
no  control.  They  naturally  gravitate  into  "Darkest  Chicago" 
where  the  cheap  hotels  and  lodging  houses  abound.  In  that  district 
red  faced  men  crowd  the  saloons  and  hover  about  the  doors;  dis- 
solute women  stare  brazenly  into  one's  face;  the  air  is  heavy  with 
the  fumes  of  stale  beer;  the  laugh  of  the  harlot  mingles  with  the 
ribald  songs  and  cursings  of  the  half  drunken  men  at  the  bars 
and  the  card  tables ;  cheap  theaters  and  low  concert  halls  occupy 
buildings  which  ought  to  be  used  for  more  legitimate  purposes. 
In  that  district  passion  runs  riot ;  dissipation  everywhere ;  sin  every- 
where. The  wages  of  sin  is  death. 

In  1901  a  movement  was  begun  which  was  in  response  to  a  wide- 
spread and  ever  increasing  demand  that  something  should  be  done 
in  behalf  of  the  ever  increasing  army  of  waifs  and  strays  that 
abound  in  "Darkest  Chicago."  This  movement  is  but  the  logical 
result  of  a  profound  conviction  that"  good  influence  should  be 
brought  to  bear  to  effect  the  future  moral  and  religious  life  of 
this  imperial  city.  That  the  work  is  being  done  may  be  seen  in 
the  fact  that  the  first  night  our  Boys'_  Club  rooms  were  open  three 
boys  took  advantage  of  the  opportunities  afforded  them  here.  Dur- 
ing the  year  ending  December  31,  1904,  three  years  later,  we  en- 
rolled the  names  of  1738  boys  in  the  same  club  rooms  and  had  an 
aggregate  annual  attendance  in  all  departments  amounting  in  round 
numbers  to  21,500.  Our  Club  rooms  had  been  open  less  than  six 
months  when  it  became  apparent  that  we  could  not  accommodate 
the  oncoming  multitude  of  poor,  ragged,  foot-sore,  tramp  children 
who  represent  the  waste  material  of.  our  slums,  so  we  decided  to 
admit  only  boys  fourteen  years  of  age  and  under. 

Industrial  training  in  connection  with  Boys'  Club  work  is  the 
key  that  is  to  unlock  the  street  boy  problem,  but  owing  to  a  lack 
of  room  we  are  accommodating  less  than  fifty  per  cent,  of  the 
boys  who  seek  admission  to  our  industrial  departments.  This  waste 
material  can  be  and  is  being  reclaimed  as  may  be  seen  in  the  case 
of  a  boy  found  in  December,  1903,  sleeping  in  a  dry-goods  box  in 
Market  Street.  He  was  brought  to_  us.  We  gave  him  a  bath,  put 
clean  clothes  on  him  and  found  him  employment.  To-day  he  is 
making  a  splendid  record  working  his  way  through  college.  An- 
other boy  found  on  South  Canal  Street  amidst  junk  shops,  saloons, 
freight  houses,  etc.,  is  now  taking  a  course  in  the  Art  Institute 
where  he  is  showing  marked  abilitv  in  free  hand  drawing.  These 
are  only  samples  of  many  cases  which  might  be  cited. 

Quoted  from  letter  from  J.  F.  ATKINSON, 

Superintendent,  Chicago  Boys'  Club. 


Sheriff  Barrett  says  Chicago  is  not  a  wicked  city  now.  It  has 
been  wonderfully  cleaned  up  in  the  past  few  years..  This,  he  says, 
is  due  wholly  to  the  efficiency  of  the  police,  and  that  the  majority 
of  holdups  are  due  to  drunkenness  on  the  part  of  the  victims  and 


60  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

their  being  in  places  where  they  have  no  business  to  be-  (That  is 
hard  on  some  of  the  men  who  have  been  held  up  here.)  But  the 
bad  name  Chicago  bears  is  partially  due  to  certain  papers  for  the 
good  that  they  have  done  in  their  exposures.  He  says  that  New 
York  and  London  papers  do  not  publish  the  class  of  matter  that 
fills  some  of  our  papers.  He  believes  the  greatest  evil  we  have 
here  is  its  being  the  center  of  unionism  as  it  is ;  for  it  is  the  strong- 
est union  city  in  the  world.  But  even  during  the  great  strike  there 
has  been  less  crime  than  during  the  same  months  of  the  year  before. 

Judge  Smith  of  the  Appellate  Court  says:  "I  have  lived 
in  Chicago  for  forty  years  and  I  have  never  had  the  least  trouble- 
It  is  impossible  to  compare  Chicago  with  any  other  city  in  the 
world.  None  has  become  so  great  in  so  short  a  time;  none  is  so 
mixed  as  to  population ;  and  none  has  had  so  many  difficult  condi- 
tions to  meet  and  so  little  experience  in  the  manner  of  meeting 
them.  If  any  other  city  in  the  world  had  grown  as  rapidly,  the 
same  troubles  would  have  come  to  it  but  in  a  lesser  degree  and  it 
is  questionable  if  they  would  have  been  so  well  overcome.  Chicago 
is  located  in  the  center  of  the  country  and  is  a  sort  of  half-way 
place  for  criminals.  I  believe  that  there  is  no  real  criminal  in  the 
country  who  has  not  at  one  time  or  other  been  here. 

I  was  judge  of  the  criminal  court  for  a  good  many  years  and 
I  have  had  as  many  as  forty  murder  cases  in  one  year;  but  this 
number  was  far  in  excess  of  the  number  tried  by  any  other  judge 
that  year.  Now  we  have  a  much'  smaller  percentage  of  convictions 
in  our  criminal  courts  than  *hey  have  in,  say  London,  and  may  be 
in  New  York.  But  in  England  the  courts  have  full,  unrestricted 
power  while  here  not  only  will  a  jury  never  convict  a  man  of  crime 
unless  he  is  proven  guilty  without  a  doubt,  but  our  courts  were  in- 
volved in  a  whole  mess  of  political  intrigue.  There  is,  however, 
more  permanency  in  the  courts  of  older  communities;  even  New 
York  is  better  managed  in  this  respect,  and  judicial  administra- 
tion is  more  substantial  and  permanent. 

In  the  police  department  it  is  the  same  way;  some  officers  are 
afraid  of  political  influence  higher  up.  If  the  police  had  a  fair 
chance,  I  think  they  would  do  excellent  service  and  would  be  a  first- 
class  body  of  men  if  they  were  not  continually  interfered  with  by 
some  scallowag  at  the  top.  The  whole  department  is  juggled  by 
the  head  officers.  But  even  considering  these  things,  Chicago  is 
a  splendid  and  a  powerful  city  and  it  would  bear  no  such  reputa- 
tion as  it  does  now,  were  it  not  for  our  very  loyal  press.  Every 
bit  of  wickedness  that  occurs  in  the  city  is  published.  Nothing  is 
suppressed.  Other  papers  copy  and  what  is  the  result?  It  has 
borne  the  name  "Wicked  City"  for  years. 

^But  Chicago  is  now  a  first-class  city  and  we  are  fortunate  in 
having  a  predominance  of  aggressively  moral  people. 

The  new  name  we  have  for  it  —  City  Beautiful  —  fits  it  surely. 
Yes,  I  think  the  intention  of  Mr.  Stevens  to  prove  the  city  redeemed 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  61 

in  all  but  the  name,  is  a  very  creditable  one.  How  is  the  world 
going  to  know  of  its  redemption  unless  told  of  it?  He  deserves  the 
good  will  of  the  press  and  every  reader." 

Mr.  Robt.  E.  Burke  has  for  years  been  identified  with  politics 
in  Chicago  and  has  served  his  city  in  many  capacities.  He  says: 
"Chicago  has  reasons  for  being  one  of  the  wickedest  cities  in  the 
world  instead  of  being,  as  it  is  now,  one  of  the  best  of  them.  It 
is  made  up  of  people  of  races  from  all  over  the  earth  with  almost 
every  religion  and  creed  in  existance  represented  here  and  it  is  sur- 
prising that  it  is  not  more  wicked  than  it  is.  There  were  some 
pretty  bad  spots.  There  were  tough  districts  sandwiched  in  between 
such  as  "Little  Hell,"  "Hell's  Half  Acre,"  and  the  "Lava  Beds."* 
But  these  places  are  all  cleaned  out  now  and  there  is  not  a  really 
tough  or  dangerous  neighborhood  in  Chicago  to-day. 

"But  we  have  a  most  excellent  police  force.  They  have  a  diffi- 
cult task  to  perform,  for  they  are  Jar  from  being  strong  in  num- 
bers. We  have  now  about  2,300,  but  we  should  have  5,000  or  at 
least  100  to  each  ward.  They  have  about  7,000  saloons  to  keep  in 
order;  if  about  400  to  500  of  these  were  wiped  out  however,  their 
task  would  be  easy.  Then  every  fall  there  is  a  general  influx 
of  unemployed,  many  of  whom  are  criminals  by  nature  or  they 
become  criminal  of  necessity.  This  is  due  to  Chicago's  geograph- 
ical location.  Then  the  police  were  handicapped  by  the  courts  and 
the  lax  administration  of  justice.  Fines  were  remitted,  criminals 
were  either  pardoned  or  let  out  on  parole.  This  causes  contempt 
for  the  law  not  only  in  the  criminal  himself  but  in  would-be  crimi- 
nals. It  is  a  bad  practice  and  very  harmful. 

"Then  I  have  seen  many  times  police  justices  hurry  through 
their  dockets  in  the  most  perfunctory  way.  One  case  after  another 
would  be  brought  up,  the  charges  read  and  the  prisoner  fined  ten 
dollars  and  costs  and  told  to  step  aside  with  no  attempt  at  proper 
investigation  or  trial.  The  courts  themselves  were  at  one  time 
partially  responsible  for  most  of  the  crime  here. 

"But  the  city  is  not  wicked  now  and  no  one  need  ever  fear 
personal  or  financial  injury  if  he  conducts  himself  properly." 


Lieutenant  Madden,  acting  chief  of  detectives,  says  that  the 
only  trouble  with  Chicago  is  that  it  has  grown  so  rapidly  and  of 
course  the  criminal  element  has  grown  proportionately,  but  that 
the  hard  name  it  bears  is  not  warranted.  That  while  there  were 
really  more  criminals  here  than  in  any  other  city  of  its  size  was 
due  to  the  fact  that  it  is  a  sort  of  a  half-way  station  and  that  it 
is  this  reason  alone  that  makes  this  the  case.  But  that  a  good 
vagrancy  law  would  rid  us  of  fully  fifty  per  cent,  of  them-  While 
street  walking  has  been  minimized  it  will  break  out  occasionally 
in  spite  of  all  that  can  be  done.  Concert  halls  and  places  of  assig- 
nation are  practically  closed.  There  is  no  gambling  in  Chicago  ex- 


02  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

cept,  of  course,  little  poker  games  which  are  bound  to  exist.  The 
methods  of  conducting  our  penitentiary  and  reform  schools  are  the 
cause  of  the  continued  holdups.  He  says  that  a  man  can  have 
been  arrested  twenty  times  for  holdups  and  then  on  the  last  sen- 
tence be  out  again  in  eleven  months.  But  if  the  police  force  had 
good  laws  to  back  them  up,  there  would  be  very  little  crime  here 
and  Chicago  instead  of  the  name  it  bears  might  be  called  the  Holy 
City. 

Mr.  W.  S.  Jackson,  president  of  the  Chicago  Board  of  Trade, 
treats  the  subject  broadly  and  though  his  criticism  may  be  some- 
what harsh,  yet  in  every  instance,  he  brings  up  a  redeeming  circum- 
stance. He  says: 

"The  lax  administration  of  state  and  municipal  statutes,  par- 
ticularly those  relating  to  the  protection  of  persons  and  property 
and  the  maintenance  of  public  order  has  given  to  the  city  an  un- 
enviable reputation. 

"New  enterprises,  calling  for  the  investment  of  capital,  have 
been  frightened  away  and  serious  injury  has  thus  been  done  to  our 
commercial  interests.  This  state  of  affairs,  emphasized  as  it  is  by 
the  assaults  and  disorder  attending  labor  strikes  and  their  per- 
nicious influence  upon  our  public  schools,  I  think,  is  largely  due  to 
the  financial  inability  of  the  city  to  provide  adequate  police  pro- 
tection. 

"While  there  is  and  always  will  be  waste  and  extravagance  in 
any  politically  governed  municipality,  Chicago  has  been  wonder- 
fully free  from  any  grave  scandals  affecting  the  disbursement  of  its 
revenues ;  its  lack  of  income  is  organic  and  relief  can  only  come 
with  an  enlargement  of  its  charter  powers.  Unfortunately  this  con- 
dition has  served  as  an  invitation  to  many  representatives  of  the 
criminal  class  from  elsewhere  and  burglaries  and  holdups  have  be- 
come numerous.  Detrimental  as  such  things  are  to  the  public  wel- 
fare, the  most  serious  consequence  is  in  the  alarming  disregard  for 
law.  We  are  pressing  through  a  trying  period  of  stress  and  eco- 
nomic change;  the  good  people  of  the  city  are  greatly  in  the  major- 
ity and  there  is  abundant  promise  that  our  trials  are  transitory  and 
that  good  will  come  out  of  them.  Already  the  indications  are  ap- 
parent. 

"As  to  crimes  concerning  moral  turpitude,  Chicago  with  its 
great  heterogenous  population  I  believe  is  much  better  than  many 
other  of  the  large  cities.  The  pulpit  and  press  in  the  last  five  years 
have  done  much  to  create  a  standard  in  public  sentiment  that  has 
caused  decided  improvement,  and  Chicago  in  this  regard  will  not 
suffer  by  comparisons  with  any  other  great  city.  Chicago  with 
more  than  two  million  people  has,  perhaps,  fewer  millionaires  than 
any  other  city  of  equal  population ;  it  is  from  center  to  circumfer- 
ence pulsing  and  throbbing  with  commercial  activities  and  yet  in 
its  charities  it  is  beautiful,  beneficent  and  grand." 

Captain  Adrian  C.  Anson,  ex-captain  of  the  Chicago  Baseball 
Team  and  now  city  clerk,  has  not  yet  become  accustomed  enough 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  63 

to  holding  office  to  submit  gracefully  to  being  interviewed.  But 
his  one  remark  is  significant:  "I'll  not  leave  Chicago  on  account  of 
the  crime  here." 

During  a  conversation  with  Senator  Toy  of  Andover,  S.  D., 
(in  Mr.  Stevens'  office),  he  was  asked,  what  is  the  opinion  of  the 
people  of  the  Northwest  regarding  Chicago  as  a  "wicked  city." 
He  quickly  replied,  "Chicago  has  the  name  "wicked  city"  in  our 
section  as  well  as  many  others  visited  in  my  travels.  But  per- 
sonally I  fail  to  see  it  in  that  light.  For  thirty  years  I  have  been 
visiting  Chicago  every  season  and  have  never  been  molested  in  any 
way  by  business  bandits  or  thugs  or  courtesans  of  the  streets.  I 
see  no  wickedness,  and  all  my  visits  here  are  stored  away  in  my 
memory  as  just  so  many  more  pleasant  epochs  of  my  life.  I  have 
been  treated  like  a  prince  of  royal  blood  by  every  one  I  came  in 
contact  with  from  shoe  shiners  to  merchant  princes  (in  a  business 
way)  and  from  affable  hotel  clerks  to  eminent  statesmen.  No  sir, 
I  fail  to  see  where  it  got  its  name  "wicked  city."  I  would  rather 
bring  up  a  child  in  Chicago  than  in  any  of  the  small  cities.  Every- 
one is  busy  here  in  some  way  and  they  keep  out  of  mischief.  The 
smaller  cities  are  worse  in  comparison." 

Mr.  B.  R.  Cahn,  president  of  the  Chicago  Stock  Exchange, 
said :  "I  am  not  in  a  position  to  discuss  Chicago  as  a  "wicked 
city,"  because  I  personally  have  never  come  in  contact  with  any 
of  it.  I  have  read  much  in  the  papers  of  Chicago's  wickedness,  but 
have  no  personal  knowledge  of  any.  Wickedness  or  evil  conditions 
of  any  sort  on  the  stock  exchange  is  absolutely  unknown." 

Judge  Brentano  says,  "Chicago  is  no  more  wicked  than  any 
other  large  city  in  the  world  and  is  much  less  so  than  many.  Lon- 
don, Paris,  and  Vienna  are  all  of  them  much  worse.  Crime  exists 
everywhere  and  is,  if  anything,  now  less  widespread  here  than  in 
most  large  cities-  I  believe  that  certain  phases  of  crime  and  vice 
run  in  a  nearly  fixed  proportion  to  the  population  and  this  propor- 
tion certainly  is  not  exceeded  here.  Criminals  and  vicious  people 
of  all  sorts  are  like  the  poor:  we  have  them  always  with  us." 

Mr.  L.  W.  Messer,  general  secretary  of  the  Young  Men's  Chris- 
tian Association,  gave  the  following:  "Relatively  I  believe  Chi- 
cago to  be  neither  better  nor  worse  >  than  any  other  city  in  this 
country.  The  same  forms  of  vice  exist  in  every  large  city  and  if 
anything,  are  more  marked  in  the  eastern  cities.  In  Boston  even 
I  have  seen  more  vulgarity  and  drunkenness  than  here  in  Chicago. 
And  in  the  cities  of  New  England  in  the  street  cars  and  stations 
and  public  places  of  all  sorts  one  hears  commonly  more  low,  bad 
conversation  among  the  average  citizens  than  here.  This  seems  to 
me  to  be  an  indication  of  a  bad  moral  condition  that  we  have  not 
here. 

"In  New  York  especially  the  social  evil  is  much  more  bold  and 
open  than  here,  and  there  they  have  a  type  of  population  that  is 
lower  than  anything  ever  seen  here. 


64  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

"Chicago  is  certainly  improving.  It  was  not  so  very  long  ago 
that  Chicago  was  a  frontier  town  with  all  its  accompanying  vices- 
But  these  have  been  gradually  disappearing.  If  there  is  an  excess 
of  crime  here  it  is,  I  think,  due  to  the  city's  youth  and  rapid  growth. 
Up  till  recently  Chicago  had  not  adjusted  itself. 

"Holdups  in  number  and  seriousness  are  not  as  bad  as  they 
are  made  to  appear,  and  had  we  an  adequate  police  force  of  equal 
efficiency,  they  would  be  able  to  cope  with  our  worse  evils  success- 
fully. The  police  are  to  be  greatly  commended  upon  their  conduct 
of  the  recent  strike.  There  has  been  much  laxity  in  suppressing 
the  violence  attending  it  however,  but  this  is,  I  think,  due  to  po- 
litical influence.  In  the  presecution  of  such  cases,  too,  the  justice 
courts  have  been  responsible  for  much  of  the  trouble  by  failing  to 
levy  sufficient  penalties  and  thereby  encouroging^yice. 

"There  are  many  causes  for  vice  in  large  cities  and  the  same 
holds  true  in  Chicago,  but  the  one  I  believe  to  be  the  most  deplor- 
able is  the  low  theater  and  playhouse.  On  one  Sunday  night  I  had 
my  men  go  to  them  all  and  there  were  17,000  people  in  attendance- 
They  were  all  packed,  and  principally  by  young  men  and  boys ;  the 
younger  the  average  age,  the  bigger  the  crowd.  But  these  fortu- 
nately are  now  being  cleansed. 

"The  cause  of  Chicago's  bad  reputation  is  certainly  one  due  to 
undue  publicity  by  the  press,  emphasizing  sensationalism.  Exag- 
geration of  evil  conditions  by  rival  cities  though  has  had  much  to 
do  with  it-  There  is  a  rabid  prejudice  in  New— York  against  Chi- 
cago and  throughout  the  entire  country  _  there  is  a  marked  tendency 
to  recognize  the  bad  and  fail  to  recognize  the  good  for  commercial 
and  sectional  reasons." 


Wm.  Jennings  Bryan  sees  a  great  future  for  Chicago.  (Quot- 
ing from  letter  to  the  author),  he  says  in  part: 

"I  am  not  sufficiently  acquainted  with  Chicago  and  other  cities 
to  compare  them  from  the  standpoint  of  vice  and  crime.  I  have 
always  been  impressed  with  its  advantageous  position  and  with  its 
possibilities  for  the  future.  Its  citizens  have  shown  an  independ- 
ence in  voting  which  indictes  an  appreciation  of  the  responsibili- 
ties of  citizenship. 

"I  >  am  very  much  interested  in  the  experiment  about  to  be 
made  in  municipal  ownership  and  am  gratified  to  see  Chicago  a 
leader  in  the  movement." 

******* 

Dr.  W.  M.  Harsha,  an  eminent  life  saver  of  the  College  of 
Physicians  and  Surgeons,  College  of  Medicine,  University  of  Illi- 
nois, Department  of  Surgery,  says :  "Wicked  city  it  was  and  wicked 
city  it  is  called.  But  every  city  has  a  wicked  side  and  naturally  the 
larger  the  city  the  larger  the  element  of  wickedness.  'Opportunity 
is  writ  large'  in  a  great  city  and  like  the  rain  from  heaven  comes 
to  the  just  and  the  unjust.  Much  of  the  seeming  goodness  of  peo- 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  65 

pie  in  smaller  communities  may  be  due  to  less  opportunity  and  to 
the  restraining  influence  of  the  more  general  acquaintance  of  the 
people.  Instance  the  wild  times  many  of  these  people  indulge  in 
when  in  the  city  away  from  these  restraining  influences ;  also  wit- 
ness respectable  Americans  from  city  or  country  when  abroad  —  in 
Paris  for  instance  —  where  you  may  see  them  visit  places  mention 
of  the  like  of  which  at  home  would  shock  them.  In  the  city  the 
man  with  wicked  impulses  gets  away  from  people  who  know  him 
when  he  turns  the  corner ;  and  it  is  this  fact  which  attracts  many 
of  the  worst  people  from  the  smaller  communities  to  residence  here. 
It  is  true  the  large,  city  also  attracts  many  of  the  best  and  brightest 
people.  The  worst  element  hopes  to  get  lost  while  the  best  often 
gets  'found.'  A  large  part  of  the  wickedness  of  any  city  is  main- 
tained by  the  aid  of  and  for  the  delectation  of  the  visitor.  Chicago 
is  not  as  bad  as  it  has  been  ^painted.  Our  press  has  perhaps  been 
inconsiderate  in  making  public  the  worst  side  of  our  civic  life  and 
the  press  away  from  here  —  especially  the  Eastern  press  —  has 
misrepresented  us  egregiously.  A  patient  of  mine  returning  dur- 
ing the  recent  teamsters'  strike  from  Philadelphia  received  from 
the  papers  there  the  distinct  impression  that  it  was  unsafe  for  him, 
to  go  from  the  railway  station  _  to  his  home.  General  report  of  us, 
away  from  home,  is  exaggeration  gone  wild.  It  has  been  charged 
against  unions  and  political  workers  that  they  hire  professional 
sluggers,  and  it  has  been  charged  that  wealthy  individuals  and 
corporations  have  hired  professional  'agents'  to  hold  tip  the  whole 
community  when  a  franchise  or  other  end  was  desired ;  but  the 
signs  of  the  times  are  that  the  people  are  getting  sufficiently  en- 
lightened to  stop  all  this  sort  of  wickedness  and  Chicago  will  yet 
emerge  a  great  as  well  as  a  decent  city." 

******* 

Lady  Helen  Forbes,  says:    "Chicago  girls  are  top  wise." 

NOTE — True,  they  are  wise,  but  they  turn  their  wisdom  to  good 
account  in  all  directions  as  a  rule.  It  is  also  a  protection  (to  young 
girls  especially)  from  prowling  wolves- 

Kang-yu-wai,  a  great  reformer  and  Chinese  statesman,  says, 
"That  our  vim  and  "New  Ideas"  would  revive  China.  He  would 
send  the  children  to  schools  and_  colleges  here  if  he  could." 

NOTE — Chicago's  death  rate  is  lowest  now  of  any  city  in  the 
world. 


Sir  F.   Bucharest  says:     "Europe   is   indebted  to  Chicago  for 
some  of  its  most  beautiful  and  talented  ladies  upon  the  stage." 
*  *  *  *  *  *.* 

Joseph  Lannin,  an  eminent  judge  of  Sunnyside,  Wash.,  saj-s : 
"Chicago,  it  is  true,  was  a  very  wicked  city.  In  fact,  it  has  that 
reputation  even  now,  I  believe,  in  all  parts  of  the  world;  but  in  my 
opinion  Chicago  is  redeemed  in  all  but  the  name.  I  think  Mr. 


66  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

Stevens'  work  proving  the  city's  redemption,  should  have  the  hearty 
support  of  the  press  and  every  person  interested  in  making  Chicago 
the  "city  beautiful,"  as  he  calls  it. 

"The  facts  widely  published  would  soon  change  the  views  here 
in  the  great  West  as  well  as  in  the  East. 

"Talks  with  students  of  sociological  conditions  from  every  for- 
eign country  proves  that  the  title  of  the  book  is  a  very  appropriate 
one  indeed.  The  impression  that  Chicago  is  the  wickedest  city  in 
the  world  is  universal.  I  believe  the  press  and  the  Commercial  As- 
sociation of  Chicago  are  in  a  position  to  do  more  toward  this  end 
than  books  of  this  order,  but  everything  of  this  nature  helps  and 
the  book  I  believe  will  be  a  power  for  good." 


Percy  Vincent  Donovan,  the  English  novelist,  says:  ''Chicago 
is  now  one  of  the  greatest  cities  of  America.  It  is  more  like  Lon- 
don." He  once  said,  Chicago  was  a  dirty  wilderness  of  rotten 
wooden  houses  on  streets  like  ditches  whilst  a  maze  of  electric  wires 
and  scrambling,  money-mad  people  made  the  lake  look  like  a  trench 
in  front  of  a  great  army. 

The  English  parson,  W-  Kirk  Bryce,  at  a  banquet  of  the  Sons 
of  St.  George,  said,  "Chicago  is  now  one  of  the  greatest  cities  in 
the  world." 


Thomas  Lawson,  of  frenzied  finance  fame,  says  that  (metaphi- 
sically  speaking)  the  house  of  the  Chicago  people  is  on  fire.  But 
the  flames  will  be  extinguished  and  the  structure  as  well  as  the  in- 
mates will  be  saved. 

NOTE — If  this  is  too  copious  for  the  reader's  comprehension, 
Mr.  Lawson  will  explain  to  all  through  the  press  if  you  write  him. 

J.  G.  Hudson,  an  English  educator  of  London,  says:  "Chicago 
is  the  greatest  city  in  the  United  States  and  the  schools  are  the 
best  in  the  entire  world.  The  Chicago  women's  clubs  were  a  great 
help  towards  this  end-" 

NOTE — This  is  true  and  they  deserve  great  credit.  Still  there 
are  60,000  children  deprived  of  any  opportunity  to  obtain  an  educa- 
tion in  Chicago  alone.  This  is  a  very  small  average  (great  as  it 
seems)  compared  to  other  cities  of  the  world.  Will  interested 
readers  kindly  tell  us  how  to  benefit  the  60,000  poor  little  mortals. 
The  author,  2  Aldine  Square,  Chicago,  has  a  "plan"  exchange  ideas 
on  the  subject  and  form  some  practical  plans  for  helping  all  the 
worthy  poor  of  Chicago, 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


68 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  69 

Marian  Shuflin  in  Chicago  Record  says: 
The  heart  of  Chicago  is  going  out  to  her  "bad  boy." 
In  a  dozen  ways  her  sympathy  for  him  is  taking  concrete  form 
and  there  are  being  woven  a  dozen  practical  plans  to  help  him 
along  the  road  to  good  citizenship.  For  half  a  century  the  city's 
attitude  toward  her  dependent  and  delinquent  boys  might  be  likened 
to  that  of  a  widow  with  many  children  to  support  toward  the  one 
that  gave  her  the  most  trouble — she  loved  him,  but  was  so  busy 
earning  the  family  bread  that  the  annoyance  from  his  peccadillos 
smothered,  for  the  time,  any  show  of  maternal  affection.  Chicago, 
having  acquired  her  commercial  competence,  now  has  time  to  take 
up  the  problem  created  by  her  bad  boy,  with  the  leisure  and  sym- 
pathy necessary  to  his  reformation. 


Charles  A.  Stevens  says: 

State  street,  Chicago,  is  a  wondrously  beautiful  thorughfare. 
In  it  lies  the  heart  of  the  most  attractive  commercial  body,  for 
so  limited  a  space,  in  all  the  world.  New  York,  with  its  scattered 
stores,  cannot  even  so  much  as  produce  a  good  imitation.  Paris 
show  windows  and  contents  of  establishments  run  more  to  colors, 
while  London's  houses  and  streets  ever  are  gloomy,  not  only  with 
displays,  but  exteriorly;  those  who  parade  on  sidewalks  are  stupid 
appearing  as  compared  to  State  street  and  what  the  street  holds. 

One  begins  at  Lake,  and,  looking  down  to  Congress,  sees 
monuments  of  Chicago's  commercial  greatness,  so  strong  and  so 
big  that  almost  any  one  of  them  is  so  great  that,  if  torn  away, 
the  Western  world  miss  it-  And  yet  State  street  is  but  one  of 
a  multitude  of  arteries  that  feed  the  brain  and  muscles  of  this 
wonderful  giant  by  the  lakes.  But  it  is  the  one  splendid,  beautiful, 
shopping,  trading  avenue  which  has  given  fame  to  the  West.  One 
hears  of  it  so  far  away  as  Arabia. 

The  street  now  is  at  its  best.  The  beautiful  days  send  thou- 
sands to  it.  It  becomes  the  city's  popular  show  ground.  In  it  is 
a  vari-colored,  flashing,  bright-eyed  world  of  good  nature,  of  fash- 
ion— men  with  money,  visitors  in  delight,  women  dressed  in  all 
the  shades  of  the  sunrise  pink,  the  noonday  blue  and  the  sunset  red. 
Chicago  would  be  famous  if  she  possessed  no  other  exhibition  of 
greatness  and  beauty. 


Alexander  Revell  says: 

Chicago    is    the  center,  the  commercial  hub  of  a  universe  in 

which  you  could  plant  Germany,  Austria,  Holland,  Belgium,  Great 

Britain  and  Ireland,  France,  Spain,  Norway,  Sweden,  Italy,  Greece, 

Portugal,    Switzerland,   Turkey   and   Denmark.      Does   the   average 

•mind  ever  stop  to  contemplate  the  width  and  area  of  this  country? 

Courtesy  of  J.  Evans,  Chicago  Examiner. 


70  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

Investigation  by  Chief  Collins  into  the  sending  of  young  women 
to  Chinese  harems  has  revealed  the  fact  that  for  years  Chicago  has 
been  a  recruiting  station  for  such  traffic.  A  number  of  North  side 
divekeepers,  it  is  said,  have  grown  rich  in  the  trade.  The  chief 
has  determined  to  stop  the  traffic.  He  announced  to-day  that  he 
would  drive  the  ringleaders  out  of  town. 

"I  dp  not  want  Chicago  to  be  the  recruiting  station  of  Chinese 
harems,"  said  Chief  Collins.  "I  intend  to  drive  the  ringleaders 
out  of  town." 

Chief  Collins  received  his  first  information  that  Chicago  was 
supplying  women  for  Chinese  ports  from  James  L.  Rogers,  Ameri- 
can consul  at  Shanghai. — Courtesy  of  Chicago  Journal. 

******* 

NOTE — The  British  consul,  Alexander  Finn,  advises  his  country 
to  follow  Chicago's  lead.  Is  this  not  significant  of  its  rapid  growth 
to  supremacy  over  all  cities  of  the  world? 

Consul  Finn  Reports  to  His  Government  the  Opportunities  Are 
Large  if  American  Methods  Are  Followed. 

"Use  American  methods;  advertise  as  extensively  as  Ameri- 
can manufacturers  do;  establish  agencies'  in  Chicago." 

This  was  the  advice  given  to  British  manufacturers  by  Alex- 
ander Finn,  the  British  consul,  in  his  annual  report  to  his  govern- 
ment. He  declares  there  is  a  great  unexplored  field  for  British 
manufacturers  in  Chicago  and  urges  them  to  seize  the  opportunity. 
For  the  purpose  of  building  up  this  trade  the  consul  announces 
he  is  ready  to  receive  names  of  persons  in  the  united  kingdom 
wishing  to  export  to  Chicago.  He  offers  to  put  these  merchants 
into  correspondence  with  importers  in  this  city.  He  urges,  how- 
ever, that  for  the  British  manufacturer  to  meet  with  success  in 
the  market  he  must  adopt  the  active  methods  used  by  the  Chicago 
competitor. 

"The  American  believes  in  advertising,"  he  declares,  "and  uses 
it  to  the  utmost.  It  is  impossible  for  the  British  manufacturer  to 
hold  his  own,  to  say  nothing  of  increasing  his  trade  on  this 
continent,  unless  he  adopts  the  same  system  as  his  rivals." 

Consul  Finn  speaks  glowingly  of  many  phases  of  Chicago  life 
and  attempts  to  correct  the  impression  that  Chicago  is  a  wild  and 
woolly  western  town. 

"A  great  deal  is  published  in  the  papers  in  Europe  and  Amer- 
ica, about  Chicago/'  he  says,  "tending  to,  make  people  think  the 
correspondents  of  these  papers  wish  to  create  the  idea  that  they 
are  living  in  a  wild  western  town,  whereas  there  is1  no  place  where 
so  little  drunkenness  is  seen  nor  where  the  people  are  more  able 
to  provide  the  necessaries  of  life  without  appeal  to  charity." 

Courtesy  of  Chicago  Daily  News. 

******* 

Writing  the  Tribune,  Jules  Huret,  a  well-known  French  novelist 
visiting  Chicago  now  terms  it  a  city  of  wonders.  He  says : 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  71 

New  York  and  Chicago  are  two  rival  cities  and  it  is  the  New 
Yorkers  who  have  transmitted  to  Europe  their  prejudices  against 
Chicago,  with  the  result  that  when  a  person  in  Paris  wishes  to 
speak  of  a  person  who  is  intrusive  and  without  manners  of  educa- 
tion he  says,  "He  is  a  pork  merchant  from  Chicago." 

Furthermore,  the  New  Yorkers  have  represented  Chicago  to 
us  as  a  hideous  city — a  type  of  an  uninhabitable  city.  I  find  that 
both  the  adversaries  and  the  defenders  of  Chicago  have  exaggerated 
a  little  and  that  the  inhabitrns  of  the  said  cities  of  the  east  are 
hardly  justified  in  their  severe  criticism. 

In  that  city  of  Chicago,  which  we  are  told  is  peopled  exclusively 
by  the  vulgar,  I  have  met  more  amiable  men  and  have  received 
more  charming  aattention  and  witnessed  more  true  politeness  than 
in  New  York.  In  fact,  I  discovered  in  the  home  of  one  of  the 
millionaire  brewers  of  Chicago  the  most  exquisite  urbanity  and 
refined  hospitality. 

I  believe  one  could  not  find  in  the  aristocracy  a  nature  more 
really  refined,  more  discreet,  or  more  generous  than  that  of  M. 
James  Deering,  one  of  the  proprietors  of  the  famous  agricultural 
implement  manufactory  of  Deering  &  Co-,  the  greatest  of  its  kind 
in  the  entire  world.  I  beg  his  pardon  for  saying  this  so  publicly 
and  brutally.  But  I  am  proud  of  my  discovery  because  it  permits 
me  to  correct  the  false  opinions  of  the  American  people  which 
prevail  in  Europe.  That  a  man  polite  and  sensible  as  he  could  exist 
in  the  terrible  world  of  business  is  consolation  for  some  of  the 
failings  of  America  and  ought  to  reassure  us  of  the  possibility  of  a 
civilization  less  sharp,  less  brutal,  more  delicate,  and  more  refined. 

I  have  never  seen  in  any  other  city  such  intensity  of  movement 
and  of  noise.  Neither  have  I  in  any  other  city  received  an  im- 
pression of  prosperity  so  immeasurable  and  so  grandiose  as  in  Chi- 
cago. 

In  Chicago,  it  must  be  confessed,  there  are  some  places  on  the 
borders  of  the  river  which  in  appearance  suergest  the  suburbs  of  hell. 

Within  two  steps  of  this  hell  Chicago  has  Lake  Michigan.  The 
principal  hotels,  the  Auditorium  and  its  annex,  are  built  on  the 
lake  front.  This  is  called  a  lake;  it  is  a  body  of  water  580  kilo- 
meters loner — the  distance  from  Paris  to  Bordeaux — and  175  kilo- 
meters wide— the  distance  from  Paris  to  Chalonssur-Marne — and 
its  depth  in  some  places  is  as  much  as  275  meters.  The  tempests 
on  it  are  as  severe  as  those  in  the  open  sea. 

A  large  avenue  runs  along  the  lake  front  and  some  beautiful 
parks  are  there.  The  promenade  there  is  exquisite,  for  there  is 
always  a_  fresh  breeze  and  the  view  of  the  boundless  water  and  the 
great  ships  on  the  hori/on  adds  to  the  magnificence  of  the  scene. 
I  saw  some  private  residences,  some  of  which  are  exceedingly  hand- 
some, as  that  of  M-  McCormick,  who  married  a  daughter  of  M. 
Rockefeller,  who  bought  him  a  dowry  of  $3.000,000,  only:  that  of 
Mme.  Potter  Palmer,  whose  niece  a  few  years  ago  became  the 
Princess  Cantacuzene-Speranski. 


72  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

Some  clubs  are  installed  on  the  lake  front  where  the  people 
go  to  take  boat  rides  and  at  night  to  flirt  in  the  light  of  the  moon 
to  the  music  of  the  waves.  There  is  no  lack  of  young  people,  for 
here  we  are  far  from  New  England. 

Chicago,  doubtless,  feels  that  it  is  not  big  enough,  for  the  muni- 
cipality is  making  land  in  the  lake.  Little  by  little  the  lake  is  filled 
in  with  earth  taken  from  other  parts  of  the  city  and  the  avenue 
which  borders  it  is  widened.  This  is  quite  a  practical  idea.  In  a 
few  years  they  will  have  a  new  quarter  of  the  city  on  the  land 
which  they  have  made. 

Chicago  has  four  or  five  times  the  area  of  New  York.  Its  po- 
pulation is  2,250,000,  and  I  believe  that  it  has  one  street  twenty- 
two  miles  long.  This  street  is  called  Western  avenue;  it  extends 
through  the  city  from  north  to  south.  This  avenue  contains  an 
electric  car  line,  but  when  one  considers  the  stops  that  are  made 
it  must  take  all  day  to  make  a  journey  from  one  end  of  the 
thoroughfare  to  the  other.  In  that  respect  Chicago  holds  an  un- 
common record. 

On  arriving  in  Chicago — it  requires  as  least  half  an  hour  for 
an  express  train  to*  travel  the  distance  which  separates  the  extreme 
suburbs  from  the  central  station. 

If  one  takes  seriously  the  judgments  and  ironies  of  the  New 
Yorkers  one  would  expect  to  find  in  Chicago  only  the  daughters 
of  butchers  and  coal  dealers.  However,  about  10 :30  in  the  morn- 
ing, the  time  when  most  of  the  women  can  be  seen  in  the  streets, 
a  promenade  in  Michigan  avenue  is  a  charming  surprise.  Among 
the  trees  and  on  the  greensward  hundreds  of  young  women  in  ele- 
gant costumes,  flowery  hats,  or  even  bareheaded,  can  be  seen 
promenading  and  laughing,  carrying  under  their  arms  some  books 
bound  together  with  a  leather  strap. 

Such  an  air  of  health  and  of  the  joy  of  life  is  seen  in  their 
rosy  cheeks  and  their  laughing  eyes  that  it  is  difficult  for  one  to 
refrain  from  turning  and  looking  at  them  again.  But  the  men, 
the  young  men,  who  meet  them,  scarcely  notice  them.  H'ow  can 
such  beautiful  flowers  flourish  in  such  a  dusty  city? 

"It  is  the  air  of  Lake  Michigan,"  I  was  informed. 

Professor  O.  B.  Hutchins  of  Boston,  Mass.,  says:  "Chicago 
has  the  name  here  of  being  the  wickedest  city  on  the  globe.  Foreign 
visitors  to  Boston  from  all  parts  of  the  world  claim  that  Chicago 
is  believed  tr  be  the  wickedest  city  and  is  termed  such  in  all  lands. 
I  understand  by  the  best  of  authority  that  Chicago  has  or  is  being 
redeemed.  If  this  fact  can  be  fully  established  to  Americans  alone 
it^wiU  be  a  wonderful  help  to  this  great  and  beautiful  city  of  the 
middle  states  commercially  as  well  as  in  all  ways." 

"N.  B. — I  believe  there  are  very  few  Chicago  residents  who 
know  how  their  city  is  looked  upon  by  the  outside  world;  we  are 
too  busy  building  it  up  and  fighting  evils  to  ever  remember  the 
'bean  bakery'  of  the  East,  if  it  was  not  for  Lawson's  'trimming'  of 
the  'poor  kings  of  finance-' " 


WICKED   CITY   REDEEMED. 


73 


Henry  Broulund,  ex-vice-consul,  Paris,  France,  says :  "The 
name  "wicked  city"  does  not  fit  Chicago  as  I  see  it.  But  it  bears  a 
reputation  to  fit  this  name  in  all  parts  of  France,  England,  and  Au- 
stralia that  I  have  visited.  _  If  desired  to  tell  a  discordant  acquaint- 
ance to  go  to  hell  in  a  polite  manner,  they  immediately  said,  'Mon- 
sieur, you  go  to  Chee-cau-gp.'  " 

Prince  Henry  of  Prussia  says :  "Chicago  is  indeed  a  great  city. 
It  is  the  malestrom  of  the  States'.  Centered  midst  a  churning  sea  of 
humanity.  If  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  I  met  were  a  representative 
class,  Chicago  as  a  whole  would  impress  me  as  being  more  cultured 
than  we  are  given  to  believe  in  our  country.  Many  of  the 
ladies  are  beautiful.  Many  of  the  boulevards  and  residences  are 
grand.  Mrs.  Potter  Palmer's  mansion  is  a  veritable  castle  compar- 
ing very  favorably  with  those  of  Europe.  The  lake  seemed  from 
this  point  very  beautiful.  The  great  parks  are  a  blessing  to  the 
poor  and  furnish  pleasant  drives  for  the  rich. 

"I  think  your  city  is  misjudged  in  many  things  by  those  of  the 
outside  world  who  are  obliged  to  depend  upon  hearsay  as  a  basis 
for  their  impressions." 


THE  AUTHOR  AT  HOME  WORKING  HARD  TO  PROVE  THE  REDEMPTION 
OF    "WIOKKD   CITY". 


74  HERE    AND   THERE   ABOUT  THE    STREETS 


TYPES  OF   INTELLIGENT  AND  BEAUTIFUL  FIRE   HORSES  IN    ACTION. 


THE   FIRE  DEPARTMENT  PASSING  THE  OLD  CITY    HALL  ON   THEIR   WAY   TO 
SAVE    LIFE    AND    PROPERTY. 


HERE  AND  THERE  ABOUT  THE  STREETS      75 


A    THRILLING  FIRE    SCENE.    A    WOMAN    HANGING    FROM    WINDOW    LEDGE 
FAR   ABOVE  THE   STREETS. 


76  THROUGH   THE    ALLEYS   AND    BY-WAYS 


POOR  CHILDREN'S  PLAY  GROUND  IN  THE   SLUMS.       A  VACANT  LOT 
CARPETED    WITH    REFUSE    AND    FILTH. 


LIKE  A  PICTURESQUE  SPOT  IN  SICILY. 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


77 


FORTUNE'S  SMILE. 


THE   WANDERER'S    HOME:    "HINXY   DINK'S"    PLACE. 


78  HERE  AND  THERE  ABOUT   THE  STREETS. 


HERE  AND  THERE  ABOUT  THE  STREETS 


79 


so 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


A    FLOATING    GAMBLING    PALACE. 


A  WORD  ABOUT  GAMBLING  AS  THE  AUTHOR  SEES  IT. 

The  worst  kind  of  gambling  has  been  entirely  done  away  with. 
There  are  two  kinds  of  gambling,  one  is  a  curse  and  the  other  is 
a  blessing.  This  class  is  of  a  purely  legitimate  character  based 
upon  fair  business  principles,  many  of  the  gamblers  being  gentle- 
men of  refinement  and  good  family  connections.  Their  acquaint- 
ances extend  largely  among  the  well-to-do  citizens,  who  can  afford 
to  loose. 

These  clubs  are  patronized  by  merchants,  attorneys,  doctors, 
publishers,  reporters,  military  men,  successful  authors,  and  artists, 
real  estate  men,  capitalists,  brokers,  financiers,  bankers,  politicians, 
aldermen,  police  officials,  judges,  residing  consuls,  residing 
and  visiting  nobles,  congressman,  senators,  etc.  The  only  game 
operated  by  these  clubs  is  the  great  national  game  of  "draw 
poker."  The  game  is  of  such  an  interesting  nature  that  it 
throughly  concentrates  the  over-taxed  mind,  giving  it  a  complete 
rest  from  all  business,  social,  political  and  domestic  cares.  Conse- 
quently to  the  brainy  man  of  means  it  is  a  harmless  pastime  and 
a  blessing  (to  the  above  class  more  especially)  ;  the  over  taxed 
business  man,  plays  more  for  this  complete  mind  rest  than  for  gain. 


WICKED   CITY   REDEEMED.  81 

They  are  very  conservative  as  a  rule  but  seldom  expect  to  win  and 
seldom  dp.  To  the  idle  rich  it  keeps  them  out  of  more  serious  mis- 
chief which  might  be  detremental  to  others.  This  phase  of  gambling 
ex'ists  in  all  cities  and  always  will.  The  police  have  more  serious 
evils  to  look  after  which  takes  up  their  entire  time  and  attention. 

In  order  to  stop  gambling  of  this  nature  it  would  require  a 
police  force  seven  times  as  large  as  it  is  at  present,  and  the  entire 
force  would  have  to  be  detailed  permanently  upon  this  one  phase 
of  the  so-called  evil. 

The  class  of  gambling  that  is  a  curse  to  women  and  innocent 
children  as  well  as  mankind  are  the  open  variety  games  run  by  un- 
principled black  legs  retired  con'men  and  a  low  order  of  shoe  string 
(pickers)  of  the  cheap  sport  order.  This  class  are  not  recognized 
by  a  real  sporting  man  as  gamblers.  Strange  to  say  you  will  find 
a  greater  social  distinction  between  gamblers  than  exists  in  the  so- 
called  society  and  the  outcasts  of  the  street ;  for  them  there  is  some 
compassion  while  on  the  other  hand  there  exists  nothing  but  con- 
tempt. The  "sure  thing"  gambling  proved  to  be  a  stigma  upon  real 
gambling.  Strong  forces  have  been  marshalled  to  put  it  down 
with  the  aid  of  the  poker  club  men  themselves.  The  police,  news- 
papers and  citizens  entirely  suppressed  it.  This  has  been  a  great 
help  towards  Chicago's  redemption. 

The  poor  clerk  and  working  man  find  their  way  home  with  a 
lighter  heart  and  heavier  pocket  and  happy  faces  greet  him.  What 
a  blessing  this  is  to  them  and  what  a  curse  it  was  when  the  roll 
of  the  wheel  or  throw  of  the  dice  sent  him  home  in  the  early  morn- 
ing, with  a  heavy  heart  and  empty  pocket.  This  class  of  gambling 
is  operated  by  a  class  of  gamesters  who  distress  a  multitude  of  poor 
wage  earners  for  the  sake  of  an  easy  living  and  the  mania  for  being 
classed  as  sporting  men.  They  hang  on  the  ragged  edge  of  poverty 
merely  realizing  results  that  could  easily  be  exceeded  by  most  any 
legitimate  vocation,  a  vocation  whereby  no  one  would  be  distressed, 
no  mother  weeping  over  the  absent  husband  or  the  little  one's  fever- 
ish wail  for  bread.  No  duping  the  dupes  of  their  week's  wages  before 
it  reaches  the  landlord,  grocer  and  baker.  No  face  turned  towards 
suicide  bridge.  No  feet  turned  from  the  home  of  want  and  misery 
to  drag  the  shattered  mind  and  aching  body  to  the  foul  river.  No 
hand  guided  to  self  destruction  or  beating  the  ones  he  loves  in  fury 
at  the  just  complaints,  or  to  thieving  for  bread  or  begging  of  same, 
or  to  the  wine  that  drowns  his  sorrows,  or  no  hand  raised  at  the 
bar  of  justice,  or  no  face  framed  behind  the  iron  bars,  no  "huntch- 
ing"  or  "bunching"  or  "foreflushing"  to  "trim"  a  "guy"  or  raise  a 
wife's  cry.  No  gray  hair  to  dye,  no  luck  to  try,  no  reason  to  lie,  no 
conscience  salve  to  buy  and  where  a  dollar  can  be  honestly  earned 
and  well  spent.  Gambling  is  a  blessing  when  it  is  not  a  curse. 
Gambling  in  Chicago  is  not  a  curse  because  the  curse  does  not  exist. 
The  curse  has  been  driven  out  by  the  help  of  the  so-called  curse 
that  is  being  held  up  as  a  curse  by  those  who  do  not  understand 
the  situation.  Question?  Which  of  the  two  is  the  worst :"  The 


82  WICKED  CITY      REDEEMED. 

"Uncle"  that  dodges  his  taxes,  or  the  "ante"  who  taxes  his  "stack" 
of  poker  checks  every  "deal."  The  tax  dodgers  are  about  the  only 
criminals  left  in  Chicago.  If  they  would  "ante"  up  all  they  have 
been  "shy"  on  for  many  "deals,"  it  would  buy  an  extra  "stack"  of 
policeman,  to  protect  the  tax-payers  as  well  as  the  poor  from  thugs 
and  murders  who  spring  into  life  from  the  very  youths  that  brush 
elbows  with  them  every  day  upon  the  street  or  cars.  Furnish  a 
fund  to  organize  a  club  for  criminals  and  would-be  criminals,  get 
them  "bunched,"  and  then  give  them  a  square  talk,  give  them  a  square 
job  at  square  wages,  give  them  a  square  meal,  and  a  square  chance 
and  99  out  of  100  will  square  their  elbows  and  point  their  nose  to- 
wards a  square  future.  Take  the  1  of  the  100  (if  he  won't  be 
square  when  he  has  a  good  chance)  throw  him  in  a  cell  and  throw 
the  key  away.  Then  every  body  is  safe.  The  one  in  jail  should 
have  a  chance  if  he  will  promise  to  take  the  job  waiting  for  him 
at  good  pay  and  good  treatment.  In  order  to  furnish  jobs  for  the 
great  army  of  criminals  etc.,  a  great  factory  should  be  founded  by 
the  rich  of  our  city.  The  work  should  be  light  and  agreeable.  The 
profits  should  be  shared  by  every  employe  up  to  a  certain  per  cent., 
above  that  should  go  to  the  poor  families,  who  have  way-ward 
sons  and  daughters,  to  be  used  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  them 
back  to  the  influence  of  home-life  and  the  benefits  from  the  great 
factory,  brought  back  from  the  gates  of  hell,  from  the  gates  of 
prison,  from  the  horror  of  poverty,  from  the  gates  of  ill  fame  to  the 
gates  of  this  great  factory  which  swing  open  to  welcome  a  new 
partner  among  the  thousands  of  other  partners  who  all  own  a 
partnership  interest  for  life  if  they  do  nothing  decidedly  wicked,  in 
case  of  which  they  forfeit  their  interests  for  a  time  or  for  life  ac- 
cording to  the  offence.  The  devilment  in  these  brothers  and  sisters 
of  ours  should  not  be  bottled  up  entirely  to  start  with,  pull  the 
cork  and  let  it  escape  in  "homeopathic  doses."  Don't  try  to  choke 
them  with  dry  tracks  or  flowery  speeches-  Have  a  chapel  in  the 
building,  have  a  reformed  criminal  preach,  who  can  still  swear  a 
little  as  well  as  deliver  an  oration.  Three  glasses  of  beer  should 
he  served  each  person  (that  desires  same).  The  sermon  should  be 
split  up  in  these  acts,  rag  time  music,  skirt  dancing  etc.  between 
acts,  cuspidors  supplied  each  seat,  smoking  and  chewing  allowed, 
swearing  allowed  between  acts.  Silence  during  sermon.  A  sermon 
by  some  of  our  great  ministers  once  a  month  would  be  a  good  plan. 
Have  beautiful  music,  illustrated  songs  and  moving  pictures  of 
Christ's  travels  among  the  criminals  and  poor ;  etc.  etc.  No  smoking, 
chewing  or  swearing  this  day ;  reform  them  by  degrees ;  eventually 
cut  it  down  to'  two  Sudays  without  and  two  Sundays  of  the  month 
with  it.  Then  to  three  Sundays  without  and  the  one  Sunday 
with ;  always  keep  one  Sunday  with  for  the  new  partners  of  the 
great  concern  drifting  in  over  the  course  of  time  and  for  those 
who  will  not  wholly  reform,  but  all  should  be  at  liberty  to  attend 
any  meetings  they  choose.  This  is  an  incomplete  thought  roughly 
sketched.  But  it  is  the  only  sure  way  of  reforming  the  criminals 


THROUGH   THE   ALLEYS   AND    BY-WAYS 


84 


THROUGH  THE   ALLEYS   AND   BY-WAYS 


PLAYING  OX  THE  VERGE  OF  HELL. 
THE    START. 


TASTING    HELL'S    BROTH. 
FROM   PLAVGROrNl)  TO  GRAVE. 


THROUGH   THE   ALLEYS   AND    BY-WAYS 


b5 


FROM  PLAYGROUND  TO  GRAVE. 


86  ABOUT  THE  RED  LIGHT  DISTRICT. 


PALACES   IN   THE    "RED   LIGHT    DISTRICT.' 


TYPES  OF  RESIDENTS  OF  THE   "RED  LIGHT  DISTRICT.1 
FROM  PLAYGROUND  TO  GRAVE. 


LINCOLN   PARK. 


87 


WICKED   CITY   REDEEMED. 


"  t." 


1*  H  • 

~Sm-.ir 
t"F* 

•fc  infer: 
fci  I 

tfn^H'kii 

ijg^ylf  s 


a 


WICKED   CITY   REDEEMED.  89 

or  keeping  them  out  of  mischief.  I  hope  this  budding  thought  will 
bloom  in  the  minds  of  the  rich  and  powerful  citizens  of  Chicago. 
At  least  we  should  all  do  all  we  can  for  the  poor;  poverty  is  the 
curse  that  breeds  more  criminals  than  inclination. 

N.  B.  If  the  reader  desires  to  help  the  poor  of  Chicago  in 
some  way  write  or  call  upon  the  Author  of  "Wicked  City,"  No. 
2  Aldine  Square,  Chicago.  There  exists  a  practical  plan  whereby 
all  classes  of  the  poor  can  be  benefited  at  little  cost  to  the  more 
fortunate.  It  is  a  NEW  IDEA,  investigate  it. 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

Chicago  at  one  time  justly  earned  the  name  of  being  the 
wickedest  city  in  the  world.  It  was  a  black  spot  upon  God's  green 
foot-stool,  a  spot  that  God  had  seemingly  withdrawn  from.  A  spot, 
upon  this  rolling  ball  of  fire,  smothered  by  fifty  miles  of  earth  in 
all  parts  except  under  this  great  city,  where  (it  would  seem)  was 
so  thinly  crusted  that  smouldering  hell's  fire  forced  its  way  through 
to  fuel  the  furnaces  of  evil  then  existing.  Possibly  you  investigated 
the  sociological  conditions  as  they  were  then  and  are  one  of  the 
many  citizens  who  realized  that  this  great  hot  bed  of  evil  was 
burning  the  brand  Wicked  City  deeply  upon  its  walls  to  be  read 
by  the  envious  world,  watching  its  growth  with  jealous  eyes.  If  so 
your  heart  was  saddened,  your  peace  of  mind  destroyed,  and  civic 
pride  humbled  to  the  dust,  that  lay  along  the  streets  and  by-paths 
of  your  investigations,  dust  that  was  swept  by  the  courtesan's  train 
and  pressed  by  the  heel  of  the  thug  or  the  confidence  men  of  high 
and  low  life.  You  probably  buckled  on  your  armor  and  fought 
for  your  city's  redemption  with  the  rest  who  possesses  the  necessary 
intellect  which  embodies  keen  perception  as  well  as  fair  intent, 
strength  of  purpose,  a  heart  full  of  love  and  consideration  for  all 
living  things  though  ant  or  man,  woman  or  child,  no  matter  how 
lowly  or  highly  stationed  in  this  world  of  strife  for  glory,  gold, 
or  the  grace  of  God,  imbued  with  enough  civic  pride  (if  a  citizen 
of  Chicago)  to  feel  interested  in  its  welfare. 

If  you  could  follow  us  through  the  beautiful  city  of  to-day, 
you  will  see  the  results  of  your  labor  towards  redemption.  You 
will  find  conditions  quite  different,  even  better  than  you  could  pos- 
sibly expect.  Living  right  in  the  city,  you  even  do  not  realize 
it.  _  You  are  fighting  _the  old  impression,  still  fiVhting  the  few  old 
evils  that  do  exist  with  even  greater  strength.  Outsiders  do  not 
have  the  opportunity  to  judge  conditions  like  yourself  so  let  every 
public  spirited  citizen  get  up  and  blow  his  horn  good  and  loud. 
When  the  city  was  of  only  one  hundred  thousand  population  and 
even  more  wicked  than  it  is  to-day,  we  all  brayed  so  loud  that  it  got 
the  name  of  "windy  city,"  but  now  we  speak  in  awed  whispers  of 
Chicago,  the  wicked  city,  while  the  outside  press  comes  out  in  bold 
headlines  voicing  the  sentiment  of  the  outside  world.  Ashamed 
of  the  name  windy  city  that  you  had  earned  for  your  beautiful  city, 


90  WICKED  CITY      REDEEMED. 

you  dropped  the  horn  and  hardly  a  toot  has  been  heard  for  it 
since.  It  still  bears  the  name  of  "windy  city"  but  even  outsiders 
realize  that  it  ceased  to  warrant  the  title  after  you  laid  down  the 
tooting  machine  to  pick  up  the  "hammer." 

You  hammered  your  unjust  critics  into  the  belief  that  your 
city  is  not  a  boyish,  prattling  thing  full  of  much  self  praise  but  a 
world  metropolis  full  of  hell  and  hardened  in  crime. 

There  was  a  certain  time  when  politics  were  so  rotten  that 
an  honest  man  would  not  enter  the  field,  men  were  afraid  to  enter 
certain  business  callings  on  account  of  the  stigma  cast  upon  same 
by  business  bandits. 

On  account  of'  the  hard  name  the  city  had  gained  for  itself, 
the  outside  merchants  were  afraid  to  come  to  Chicago  and  trade. 
The  stockmen  never  got  any  further  than  the  yards  and  the  farmer 
did  not  come  to  Chicago  at  all  unless  to  camp  upon  the  outskirts. 
You  could  travel  the  down-town  districts  for  weeks  and  never  see 
a  sun  faded  whisker  or  a  tanned  nose. 

Chicago  has  positively  been  redeemed  but  the  outsiders  as  well 
as  many  of  its  citizens  do  not  realize  it.  Tell  them  of  it,  now  is 
the  time  to  toot  some  facts  into  the  ears  of  the  world  and  dispel 
these  erroneous  impressions.  Blow  your  trumpets  with  civic  pride, 
for  it  can  be  justly  done. 

Chicagouis  redeemed  in  all  but  the  name  as  the  following  pages 
will  prove  beyond  doubt.  The  hatches  of  hell  have  been  spiked 
down  by  the  sinewy  arms  of  law  and  order,  spurred  to  heroic  effort 
through  civic  pride. 

The  hangman's  noose  will  dangle  idly  in  the  air  and  the  jails 
will  be  turned  into  school-rooms  for  the  few  criminals  left.  If  you 
want  to  gamble  in  the  new  Chicago,  you  will  have  to  go  upon  the 
floating  palace  of  the  lake,  or  gambol  with  the  Harrison  Street  Billy 
Goat. 

You  will  clearly  see  that  Chicago  is  now  safe  to  purse  and 
person,  if  you  are  to  follow  the  ramblings  of  our  pen  and  feet  as 
we  wander  in  and  out  through  streets,  alleys  and  by  ways  of  the 
once  wicked  city. 

Bent  upon  our  journey,  we  leave  the  home  comforts  for  the 
streets  and  soon  desert  the  pavements  for  a  passing  street  car 
bound  for  the  city's  center.  Nothing  came  under  our  notice  worth 
recording  (except  the  attempt  of  an  obese  lady  to  step  off  the  mov- 
ing car  backwards  with  the  usual  results,)  until  the  crowded  convey- 
ance reached  Twenty-Second  Street  and  was  crossing  Michigan 
Avenue.  Here  a  wild-eyed  auto  fiend,  (being  chased  by  mounted 
police  for  exceeding  the  speed  limit),  drove  his  machine  into  the 
air  and  landed  on  us  with  all  four  wheels.  The  usual  crowd  of 
curious  people  gathered,  the  promptness  of  the  Police  Patrol,  the 
wreck  wagon  and  ambulance  service  was  evidenced  by  their  quick 
appearance  upon  the  scene.  In  exactly  two  minutes  after  they 
came  clanging  down  the  street,  the  injured  were  being  whisked 
away  to  a  hospital,  the  offender  off  to  jail,  while  the  wreck  wagon 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  &t 

had  freed  us  and  was  speeding  from  the  scene,  the  crowd  melting 
away  quickly  as  it  had  gathered.  The  promptness  and  efficiency  of 
the  accident  services  speaks  plainly  of  one  phase  of  Chicago's  im- 
provement. As  we  touched  the  old  red-light  district,  upon  round- 
ing into  Wabash  Avenue,  the  great  changes  made  in  this  notorious 
street  was  plainly  evident  to  the  observer  of  years  past  and  to-day. 
It  has  been  redeemed  and  redeemed  thoroughly.  This  street  was 
one  of  the  slimy  arms  of  the  great  crime  octopus,  wallowing  in  the 
heart  of  the  city,  (Custom  House  Place,  Boiler  Avenue,  So.  Clark 
St.,  Plymouth  Court,  State  etc.)  From  this  bodied  cesspool  of 
crime  branched  forth  many  arms  feeling  their  way  into  even  the 
respectful  sections  as  they  grew  in  strength  and  length  year  by  year, 
chaining  the  lovely  city  in  an  iron  grip  of  social  vice  and  crime  of 
all  descriptions.  Segregation  was  tried  with  fair  results  but  the 
dumpings  of  the  World's  Fair  strengthened  the  body  and  sprouted 
new  arms  which  crept  up  the  boulevards  as  well  as  other  sections 
as  the  moral  ax  of  the  aroused  citizens  severed  the  arms  of  social 
vice  which  was  stealthily  creeping  into  their  streets  to  the  very 
door  steps,  wrecking  the  peace  of  homes  as  the  glare  and  blare  of  a 
genteel  vice  arm  of  this  great  octopus  of  crime  proselyted  their 
young  from  the  paths  of  virtue. 

Wabash  Ave.  was  the  gateway  through  which  the  great  south 
side  residents  passed  to  and  from  business,  theatres,  trains,  boats 
and  etc.  The  social  evil  overflowed  the  street,  and  seeped  into  the 
renting  properties  of  beautiful  Michigan  boulevard  and  lower  In- 
diana Ave.,  which  became  known  as  the  haw-patch.  Wabash  and 
State  became  known  as  hell's  divide,  levee,  black  belt,  forming  one 
great  toll-gate  of  social  evil  etc.  Thousands  of  young  men  and 


A  GLIMPSE  OF  THE  CUSTOM  HOUSE  PLACE  OF  TO-DAY.     BUT  A  FEW  YEARS 
AGO,  KNOWN  THE  WORLD  OVER  AS  THE  FILTHIEST  SPOT  ON  THE  GLOBE- 
THE  WALKS  FILLED  WITH  WOMEN  DAY  AND  NIGHT  IN  ALL  DEGREES     ' 
Or   ATTIRE 


92  WICKED  CITY  RREDEEMED. 

girls  passing  through  these  districts  fell  into  the  dragnet  snares  of 
the  gambler,  harlot,  pander,  confidence  man,  pick-pocket,  hold-up 
thugs,  dive  keepers,  murderers  etc.  The  price  of  toll  was  often 
paid  to  the  thug  with  death,  to  the  harlot  and  pander  with  loss 
of  honor,  to  the  confidence  man  and  gambler  with  the  loss  of 
fortune,  which  often  drove  them  to  "suicide  bridge."  Many  a  rich 
man's  daughter  or  her  poorer  sisters  the  beautiful  working  girl, 
were  enticed  into  gilded  palaces  of  shame,  paying  as  toll  the  price 
of  honor  and  sometime  death  in  the  cruel  waters  of  the  nearby 
lake.  The  main  approaches  to  the  business  center  of  the  north 
and  west  sides  were  somewhat  similar.  The  conditions  throughout 
the  entire  city  at  the  time,  (when  Chicago  justly  earned  in  all 
parts  of  the  world  the  title  of  wicked  cityj  were  too  horrible  to 
relate  in  detail,  hard  as  it  is  to  guide  your*  pen  around  facts  which 
came  under  the  author's  and  his  secretary's  notice  while  study- 
ing sociological  conditions  in  high  as  well  as  low  circles.  Many 
of  these  cold  facts  would  tarnish  the  name  of  men  and  women 
of  wealth  and  high  social  standing,  who  have  reformed  and  are 
now  leading  a  useful,  pure  and  peaceful  life,  midst  family  and 
friends.  Hundreds  af  the  middle  and  lower  classes  have  redeemed 
themselves  also  and  are  now  living  good,  clean  lives,  many  are  in 
business  for  themselves,  and  many  others  are  holding  positions  of 
trust,  loyal  to  all,  and  proud  of  their  redemption  from  crime .  Many 
young  people,  especially  girls,  are  drawn  into  crime  or  forced 
into  it  from  circumstances  over  which  they  had  no  control,  low 
wages,  love  of  dress,  possibly  a  sick  mother,  younger  sisters  and 
brothers  to  care  for,  and  upon  the  other  side  the  golden  tempter,  a 
designing  department  head,  floor-walker  or  well-to-do  customer, 
the  factory  foreman,  or  office  employer.  Many  of  these  victims  are 
merely  children  in  years  whose  innocence  was  their  greatest  weak- 
ness and  only  sin.  Hundreds  of  these  white  slaves  held  their  posi- 
tions at  the  price  of  honor  in  order  to  furnish  the  necessities  of 
life  and  add  extra  comforts  for  the  invalid  mother  or  babes  of 
their  humble  homes.  The  knowledge  of  the  many  cases  which  came 
under  our  notice  were  sad,  tipped  shafts  of  sorrow.  Weak  men 
and_  willing  women  constitute  t  another  sorrowful  evil  but  the  un- 
willing white  slave  is  to  be  pitied  above  all,  especially  those  who 
were  decoyed  by  the  thousands  from  all  parts  of  the  United  States, 
Canada  and  Europe,  to  a  life  of  shame  through  false  representations 
by  the  hundreds  of  white  slavedealers  who  infested  Chicago  during 
this  time.  These  slave  traders  grew  fat  and  prosperous  off  of  the 
sale  and  earnings  of  these  sisters  of  misfortune,  one  dealer  alone 
would  have  as  many  ?s  five  located  in  different  sections  of  the  city, 
trading  virtue  for  the  gold  he  would  collect  from  them  daily,  each 
happy  in  the  believe  that  she  alone  was  the  love  of  his  false  heart. 
In  the  meantime  his  handsome  face  and  polished  manners  were 
winning  others  from  the  path  of  duty.  These  would  be  supplied 
to  the  houses  of  ill  fame  at  so  much  a  head :  here  they  were  loaded 
with  debts  for  clothes,  fines,  etc.,  and  held  slaves  to  payment  or 
prosecution. 


WICKED  CITY  RREDEEMED.  9B 

Many  country  girls  were  lured  to  the  wicked  city  through  ads 
promising  lucrative  employment.  They  were  then  tricked  and  con- 
joled  or  drugged.  A  high  spirited  girl  who  fought  for  honor  some- 
times escaped  the  net  but  more  often  was  tricked  to  the  great  North 
West  to  become  slaves  to  the  will  of  rough  miners,  lumbermen  etc. 
Once  corralled  in  one  of  the  so-called  dance  halls  of  the  new 
country,  they  found  it  impossible  to  escape ;  such  places  were  well 
guarde'd  day  and  night.  They  were  tricked  to  this  place  by  an  ap- 
parently sympathetic  woman  (an  accomplice  of  the  white  slave 
dealer  who  pretended  to  rescue  them  from  the  Chicago  fiend  who 
in  reality  obtained  a  better  price  for  these  beautiful  slayes  in  the 
new  market  of  this  lawless  country).  The  horrors  of  this  terrible 
life  to  a  girl  of  refinement  is  easy  to  understand,  some  die  of  a 
broken  heart  or  brutality  which  they  are  forced  to  endure  until 
death  relieves  them  or  they  can  effect  their  escape.  The  bones  of 
many  girls  were  found  buried  under  one  of  these  places  in  Wash- 
burne,  Wis.  Often  girls,  as  young  as  twelve  years,  were  decoyed 
from  France  to  the  gilded  palaces  of  shame  that  then  existed  in 
Chicago  in  great  numbers.  Dr.  Peters  of  Wabash  Ave.  and  Twenty- 
Second  St.,  called  our  attention  to  one  of  these  unfortunates,  who 
had  succeeded  in  escaping  after  three  years  of  slavery.  She  was 
a  physical  and  mental  wreck  and  had  lately  attempted  suicide  be- 
cause her  sisters  shunned  her.  Aanother  case  of  his  was  that  of  a 
once  beautiful  child,  favorite  daughter  of  a  well  known  minister  of 
Michigan.  This  innocent  child  of  fifteen  was  inveigled  to  Chicago 
and  betrayed  by  one  of  Chicago's  most  prominent  business  men 
(at  that  time).  As  her  beauty  began  to  fade  from  constantly  knaw- 
ing  remorse,  she  was  cast  penniless  upon  the  street  to  starve  or  join 
the  ranks  of  her  fallen,  money  trafficking  sisters  of  shame.  She 
drank  to  drown  her  sorrows  and  in  time  became  a  bloated,  coarse 
looking  wench,  full  of  running  sores  and  poisonous  blood.  Lower 
and  lower  she  sank  until  her  moral  senses  were  dead  and  the 
filthiness  of  her  actions  surpassed  that  of  her  person  and  its  rag 
bedraggled  covering.  Three  times  she  attempted  to  rob  herself  of 
the  last  thing  that  she  possessed,  life-  As  the  doctor  gently  lifted 
a  corner  of  the  _  sheet,  we  saw  that  her  last  attempt  had  proved 
successful ;  the  sight  that  greeted  us  would  prove  a  valuable  object 
lesson  to  the  watchful  father  or  a  careless  girl. 

Truly  the  price  of  sin  is  disaster  and  premature  death  as  the 
story  proper  contained  in  this  book  will  prove  beyond  a  doubt  if 
read  carefully  and  understandingly.  The  knowledge  possessed  by 
even  one  of  the  many  physicians  of  the  author's  acquaintance  in 
Chicago,  would  fill  a  larger  book  than  this  with  tales  that  would 
wring  sympathy  from  the  heart  and  tears  from  the  eyes  of  the 
reader.  Girls  entering  Chicago  are  now  perfectly  safe  from  harm. 

During  our  verifying  investigation  of  conditions  as  they  really 
exist  now,  we  found  all  depots  supplied  with  sweet-faced,  keen- 
eyed  rescue  ladies  who  watched  every  strange  girl  arriving  in  Chi- 
cago, until  assured  that  they  are  safe  from  the  evils  every  large 


94  WICKED   CITY   REDEEMED. 

city  possesses  to  some  degree.  We  have  dwelt  some  time  on  this 
particular  evil  of  white  slave  traffic,  etc.,  as  we  earnestly  desire  to 
benefit  those  who  lack  experience  and  are  liable  to  sin  from  ignor- 
ance of  .any  great  city's  pitfalls  and  its  general  wicked  ways.  In 
order  that  they  may  avoid  danger,  it  should  be  plainly  pointed  out 
enabling  them  to  recognise  and  avoid  it,  abling  them  to  protect 
themselves  from  the  many  pitfalls  dug  along  the  pathway  of  the 
young  girl  or  boy.  These  pitfalls  are  often  glazed  over  to  appear 
harmless  as  the  path  their  feet  have  pressed  in  safety.  It  is  the 
duty  of  every  father  or  mother  to  point  out  these  pitfalls  along 
life's  pathway;  it  is  the  young  people's  right  to  know.  If  they  do 
not  they  are  liable  to  be  smothered  in  the  arms  of  the  devil  himself 
in  the  guise  of  respectability.  If  this  happens  without  their  being 
fore-warned  they  should  be  pitied  instead  of  censured. 

After  three  months  of  the  most  painstaking  and  rigid  investi- 
gation by  the  author,  his  secretary  and  others  (interested  in  sociol- 
ogy and  the  welfare  of  this  once  wicked  c'ty,)  we  are  pleased  to  be 
able  to  report  that  the  city  is  redeemed  in  all  but  the  name.  We 
sincerely  hope  that  our  endeavors  will  help  the  public  to  see  Chicago 
in  its  true  light. 

We  have  done  what  we  can  in  our  small  way  and  now  leave 
the  real  work  of  showing  that  the  Wicked  City  is  redeemed  to  the 
all  powerful  Chicago  press  and  its  public  spirited  citizens  whose 
voices  reach  the  world  through  its  columns. 

The  press  is  a  power  for  good  if  used1  for  same. 

We  found  the  body  of  the  great  crime  octopus  dead  and  only 
here  and  there  a  bit  of  waning  life  in  its  once  powerful  arms. 

We  found  the  following  list  of  evils  suppressed  or  driven  out 
and  one  thousand  extra  police  will  be  added  to  keep  it  down  and 
out;  and  with  the  gates  guarded  the  name  Wicked  City  will  soon 
fade  from  its  walls  forever. 

The  child  slave  dealers,  the  Italian  fagans,  the  schools  of  crime, 
the  shoplifters  and  their  devices,  fake  detective  agencies,  the  phony 
jewe.lery  salesman,  the  diamond  sharks,  the  street  and  park  beggars, 
the  Chinese  fan-tan  games,  trick  slot  machines,  sweatshop  evils, 
the  poor  children,  conditions  as  they  were  and  as  they  are  today, 
the  con  man  in  politics  and  business,  the  woman  window  tappers, 
the  police  protection  evil,  municipal  graft,  justice  shop  graft,  the 
strike  graft,  the  anarchists  and  socialists,  three  card  monte  and  shell 
game,  the  confidence  men  of  the  trains  and  depots,  underground 
dens  and  their  ratpits,  the  steamboat  gamblers,  holdup  women, 
negro  wenches  and  white,  the  confidence  man  in  the  pulpit,  the 
free  love  cults,  spirit  fruit,  etc.,  the  electric  saddles  etc.,  of  the 
racetrack,  the  injured  husband  racket,  gouls  of  the  cemeteries,  street 
fakirs,  give  away  games,  etc.,  the  hotel  thieves,  the  rosin-fingered 
pickpockets,  the  white  decoys  of  the  brutal  negro,  negro  confidence 
men  of  the  parks,  confidence  men  of  the  street  and  office,  the  tunnel 
disasters,  the  explosion  on  the  lake  front,  the  green  goods  game, 
the  dollar  stores,  representation  game,  betting  on  height  of  Masonic 


WICKED  CITY  RREDEEMED.  98 

Temple,  also  waiting  to  see  it  turn  around,  sale  of  temple,  mock 
cigar  auctions,  etc.,  mock  sale  of  furniture  in  houses  fitted  up  for 
the  purpose,  exorbitant  loan  sharks,  lawyers,  doctors,  spiritualists, 
mediums,  tailors,  theaters,  old  park,  etc.,  panel  houses,  opium  joints 
loaded  crap  games,  stud  poker,  roulette,  brace  faro  bank,  wire 
tapping,  employment  agencies,  marriage  bureaus,  mail  order 
schemes,  real  estate  schemes,  mining  stock  schemes,  get  rich  quick 
schemes  of  all  kinds,  low  saloons  with  knock  out  drops  annex, 
stalls,  etc.,  women  paid  by  the  day  to  sit  for  company  in  concert 
saloons,  marriage  of  colored  men  to  white  daughters  of  old  soldiers 
who  fought  and  died  to  liberate  the  black  slave,  the  fence  for 
crook's  plunder,  mischief  making  hen  parties,  mormon  elders,  men 
of  affairs,  the  lax  marriage  and  divorce  laws,  mind  readers,  nightly 
promenades  of  the  youthful,  jail  deliveries,  insuring  innocent  boys 
and  girls  and  murdering  them  for  insurance,  bank  check  kiting, 
carrying  fire-arms,  winking  at  crime,  free  love,  extermination  of 
the  horrible  Italian  Mafia  society,  heinous  crimes  of  the  brutal  rape 
fiends  of  society,  hinges  of  hell,  infamous  street  walkers,  impudent 
street  gamins,  incompetent  officials. 

The  go-between  of  judges  and  criminals. 

The  jury  fixers. 

The  fake  massage  parlors. 

Fortune  tellers,  etc. 

The  fake  clothing  store. 

The  beer  selling  dance  hall  evil. 

Thugs  at  the  polls. 

The  fake  ballot  boxes. 

Theft  of  same  and  the  bloody  fights  often  ending  in  murder. 

The  franchise  limitations. 

Gift  from  a  practical  Christian. 

The  narrow-minded  church  organizations  who  would  not  accept 
gifts  from  Christians  who  died  in  great  theater  fires. 

Criminal  negligence  of  theater  fire  traps. 

The  improvement  of  same  today,  etc. 

The  fake  cob-web  wine  merchants. 

The  fake  antique  dealers. 

The  fake  dealers  of  pictures  by  old  masters. 

The  dishonest  pig-dealers  who  buy  filthy  animals  after  death 
by  cholera  and  selling  meat  to  smaller  dealer  who  innocently  deals 
this  poisonous  cancer  growing  flesh  by  the  pound  to  the  poorer 
classes  who  are  seldom  able  to  afford  higher  class  meats  for  the 
lean  men  and  children. 

The  collar  and  cuff  fake  banks  who  rob  the  poor  workingman 
and  girl  of  their  hard  earned  savings. 

Fake  horse  sale  marts. 

Fake  coal  dealers. 

Short  weight  schemes. 

Collecting  payments  and  absconding,  etc. 

The  dead  horseflesh  dealers  who  furnish  cheap  restaurants  and 


96  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

free  counters  of  low  saloons,  also  shipping  it  to  foreign  countries 
for  canned  meat. 

The  foreign  fortune  hunter  vampires. 

Hotel  holdup  fakes. 

Adulterated  food  bandits. 

Fake  insurance  companies  preying  upon  the  ignorant  scrub 
women,  etc. 

Fake  plantation  companies  preying  upon  the  middle  class. 

Commission  merchant  graft. 

Barbershop  holdup  game. 

The  cigarette  evil. 

Fake  restaurants. 

Obscene  shows. 

Pool  and  billiard  sharks. 

Cuban  cigar  fakirs. 

Trade  journal  fakes,  (out  of  business  with  one  exception). 

Cheap  wholesale  house  fake. 

The  patent  thief. 

The  society  thief  who  steals  his  way  into  the  prestige  through 
misleading  statements,  etc. 

The  bucket  shop  graft. 

The  street  sandwich  sign  nuisance. 

Spitting  nuisance. 

Receiving  dens  of  smugglers. 

Receiving  dens  for  opium. 

Imitations  of  imported  goods. 

Train  robbers'  retreat. 

Forgers'  retreats. 

Blackmailing  papers. 

The  loop  gang. 

West  and  north  side  gangs. 

The  drugstore  fakes. 

The  fake  express  orders  jobbers. 

Express  package  delivery  fakes. 

Gangs  of  counterfeitors. 

Corrupt  government  officials  and  employees. 

Assignation  houses. 

The  mortgage  foreclosing  fakirs. 

Skin  games  in  museums. 

Subscription  fakes. 

Band  of  porch  climbers.  Y 

Band  of  break-o'-day  milk  and  paper  thieves. 

Band  of  professional  blackmailers. 

Band  of  river  pirates. 

Band  of  land  pirates. 

Nameless  evils  too  wicked  to  publish  even  in  "Wicked  City." 

Opium  fiends. 

Opium  dens. 

Cocaine  fiends. 

Gold  nugget  scheme. 


WICKED  CITY      REDEEMED.  97 

Gold  brick  scheme. 

Sale  of  lewd  pictures  and  photographs. 

Sale  of  evil  literature. 

Obscene  pictures  in  the  penny  slot  machines. 

Private  nurses  for  illegitimate  children. 

Intoxicated  children. 

Corrupt  jail  guards. 

Corrupt  judges  of  election. 

Manufactury  and  sale  of  burglar's  tools  and  fake  gambling 
devices. 

The  theater,  hotel,  and  lodging  house  fire  trap. 

The  pool  rooms. 

The  grade  crossing  where  hundreds  of  lives  have  been  ground 
out.  (Grieveous  shame.) 

Sure  thing  gambling. 

Gin  drinking  house  wives. 

Jury  bribers. 

Corrupt  court  officials. 

Fake  bondsmen,  etc. 

The  merchandise  installment  order. 

Fake  trusts. 

Fake  picture  enlargement  concerns. 

Corrupt  inspectors. 

Fake  building  contractors. 

The  all-night  saloons  and  wine  rooms. 

Fake  bargain  ads. 

Improvement  in  bridewell  and  jails. 

Improved  water  service. 

Improved  street  service. 

Improved  buildings. 

Street  cars  manners. 

The  frosty  circle  of  church  supporters. 

The  broadening  views  of  prelates  and  their  flocks  now  wel- 
come the  sinner  in  the  house  of  God. 

Insults  to  the  noble  prison  and  slum  workers. 

The  great  charitable  institutions  for  the  old  and  the  feeble,  the 
young  and  the  needy. 

Schools  and  playgrounds  for  the  poor. 

The  homes  for  fallen  women,  etc. 

The  improvement  of  hospitals,  nurses  and  physicians. 

The  feathered-brained  carpet  knights  of  society. 

The  highway  robbers. 

The  anonymous  letter  writing  fiends. 

The  assassination  of  public  officials,  etc. 

God's  word  divided  by  God's  word  dividers. 

The  different  religious  denominations  that  so  confused  the  sin- 
ner looking  for  comfort  and  seeking  the  grace  of  God. 

The  tin  stared,  shake  down,  jimmy  milk  weed  detectives. 

The  fake  jury  service,  etc,  etc. 


98  WICKED   CITY  REDEEMED. 

This  partial  list  will  give  the  reader  some  idea  of  the  evils 
a  great  city  has  to  contend  with,  and  the  credit  it  deserves  for 
sweeping  crime  from  its  streets,  alleys,  byways,  and  buildings. 
It  is  of  course  to  be  admitted  that  even  the  cleanest  of  housewives 
will  some  time  overlook  a  stray  bit  here  and  there.  It  is  possibly 
so  in  this  case,  but  the  present  administration  housewife  and  her 
co-operatives  are  swinging  the  moral  broom  with  strenuous  hands, 
and  the  final  "redding"  up  will  leave  no  crime  remnants  within  its 
gates. 


MERCHANTS'  SIEGE  WITH  BANDITS. 

Names  of  some  of  the  merchants  and  others  who  suffered  at 
the  hands  of  bandits  during  a  "carnival  of  crime"  in  Chicago. 
Bandits  mentioned  in  story  known  as  the  "long  and  short  man" 
were  mainly  responsible  for  the  holdups,  robberies  and  murders  in 
all  parts  of  the  city  during  one  of  these  epidemics: 

NOTE. — The  mystery  surrounding  the  killing  of  one  brave  mer- 
chant cleared  up  by  story  beginning  on  page  17. 

Thomas  J.  Marshall  378  W.  Madison  St. 

L.  Klein,  14th  and  Halsted  St. 

John  Bowman,  1084  W.  12th  St. 

St.  Nicharls  &  Co.,  300  W.  Lake  St. 

R.  E.  Morris,  Tea,  165  Blue  Island  Ave. 

Joseph  Modeika,  603  S.  Jefferson  St. 

W.  S.  Johnson,  121  Dearborn  St. 

Packing  House  Market,  880  W.  Madison  St. 

Meine  &  Hinkle,  Wells  and  Indiana  St. 

Medical  Mission,  45  Custom  House  Place. 

Cafetarie  Catering  Company,  46  Lake  St. 

Peter  Ackerman,  337  W.  Madison  St. 

Ruppert's  Shoe  Store,  106  Harrison  St. 

Postal  Station,  578  N.  Clark  St. 

Metropolitan  "L"   Station. 

Feldman  &  Cohen,  10  Rush  St. 

A.  V.  Lane,  12th  St.  and  Wabash  Ave. 

W.  H.  Bender,  123  Chicago  Ave. 

Adolf  Gaul,  Drugs,  Clark  and  North  Ave. 

Concordia  Cemetery. 

Oughton's,  drugs,  63d  St.  and  Madison  Ave. 

Larrig's  Oyster  and  Chop  House,  351  W.  Madison  St. 

New  York  Biscuit  Company,  Morgan  and  Randolph  St.,  $2.000. 

John  McHale,  113  Erie  St. 

W.   G.   Stuart,  741-47th  St. 

H.  F.  Myer,  Fullerton  and  Clybourn  Aves. 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


ioo 


WICKED  CITY  RREDEEMED. 


C.  M.  Robinson,  187  N.  Clark  St. 

J.  O.  Reilly,  154  S.  Morgan  St. 

S.  H.  Heim,  Rush  and  Ohio  St. 

J.  C.  McClelland,  159  Van  Buren   St. 

Dabawskis,  26-28   Hickory   St. 

E.  A.  Grannies,  158  N.  Clark  St. 

J.  H.  Herron  &  Co.,  160  S.  Water  St.  (Commission.) 

Fred  Pfeiffer,  701  S.  Wood  St. 

Dr.  Kinkons,  279  Grand  Ave. 

H.  Glamaarn,  2883  Throop  St. 

Wm.  Burdetr,  54  S.  Water  St. 

L.  W.  Schutte,  906  Wilson  . 

Ewards   Pharmacy.  504  W.  Harrison  St. 

Gus.  Rheil,  Franklin  and  Jackson. 

John  Caryer,  High  and   Blue  Island. 

C.  R.  Brocket,  1664  N.  Halsted  St. 

Bell  &  Devin,  Taylor  and  Jefferson   St. 

Sam  Luccit,  207  39th  St. 

Adams   St.   Pharmacy,   175   Western  Ave. 

Thos.  W.  Sweerey,  626  W.  Harrison  St. 

Alois   Kabat,  518   W.    18th   St. 


HOW    THE    OFFICERS    SOMETIMES    TRAVEL    THROUGH    CERTAIN    DISTRICTS 
IN  TROUBLESOME  TIMES. 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  101 

Micheel  Simmons,  5th  Ave.  and  Harrison. 

Williams  &  Coverts,  7040  S.  Chicago  Ave. 

Sam  Golden,  98  Harrison  St. 

Joseph   Koldt,   892   Milwaukee  Ave. 

Shermen  &  Walters,  Lake  and  State  St. 

Hotel  Legrand,  Wells  and  Kinzie  St. 

Union  dental  College,  $1000,00  "Holds  ups,  held  Up." 

E.  O.  Love,  154  Throop  St. 

Theodore  Magdine,  robbed  of  trousers  while  walking  on  street. 

Durand   &   Kaspers    Co's.   Union   and   Lake    St. 

John  Bredin  &  Co.,  $2300,  19  63rd  St. 

Mrs.  A.  W.  Eaton,  held  up  in  front  of  Inspector  Shacks'  Of- 
fice, N.  State  and  Chestnut  St. 

John  Rikce,  robbed  and  thrown  in  the  river. 

H.  Grover,  266  State  St. 

Aswald  Scheutoff,  42-48  Wentworth  Ave. 

H.  L.  Van  Glahn,  91  Clark  St. 

H.  L.  Flower,  86-88,  W.  Madison. 

Street  Car  State  St.,  Harmon  and  Peck  Court. 

A.  Boenert  &  Co.,  Steamship  Agency,  92  La  Salle  St.,  $2,000. 

Fred  Schefflers,  567  S.  Morgan  St. 

J.  Mayer,  W.  14th  PI.  and  Newberry  Ave. 

A.  M.  Levy,  362  Wabash  Ave. 

Hanus  Martin,  banker,  295  W.  21st  St. 

H.  Schoemaker,  299  Wells  St. 

H.  B.  Hartman,  1793  Western  Ave. 

Curry  &  Algers,  393  S.  Clark  St. 

At  Sub-Treasury,  Pat  Broderick,  Wm.  Skakel  &  Co.,  48  Dear- 
born St. 

Beck  Bros.,  308  N.  Franklin  St. 

Joseph  Williams,  97^2  Van  Buren  St. 

Martin  Hamilton,  113  W.  Ontario  St. 

L.  Morton  Ballerd,  N.  Y.  Wallace  Mill. 

W.  P.  Burnhart,  1434  Michigan  Ave. 

Mrs.  J.  J.  Carrol  906  W.  Adams  St. 

Stephen  Levandowskia,  3201  Laurel  St. 

Miss  Minnie  Mukler,  388  E.  Chicago  Ave. 

J.  E.  Pierce  of  Charlevoix,  Mich. 

Evanston  Country  Club. 

Dr.  A.  F.  Olds,  309  Euclid  Ave. 

P.  Elwell,  Center  and  Austin  Ave. 

Mrs.  Florence  H.  Prost.  Auditorium  Hotel. 

Mrs.  May  Kinslej',  hotel,  56  May  St. 

Mrs.  James  Jackson,  419  Randolph  St. 

Andrew  Dabaw?ki.  2628  Hickory  St. 

Dr.  J.  Lidas,  279  Grand  Ave. 

W.  G.  demons  &  W.  G.  Duffirldof  of  Wilkesbarre,  47th  and 
Cottage  Grove  Ave. 

Guests  of  Auditorium  Hotel. 

Alderman  Gazzello. 


108  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

Charles   Scharenburg,   chief   of   River   Forest   police,   held    up 
and  robbed  of  money,  star  and  club. 

James  Brothers,  5825  S.  Halsted  St.,  $500  and  fired  building. 

Abe  Sheppard,  Wm.  VanOrnum,  bookmakers,  $1,440. 

Max  Cohen,  3404  Forrest  Ave.,  $1,500. 

Western  Foundry  Company,  36-40  S.  Albany  Ave.,  $1,600. 

Famous  Restaurant,  51  Halsted  St. 

I.  C.  Ticket  Office,  60th  St. 
.  H.  C.  Wagner,  Albany  and  Colorado  Ave. 

S.  Olson,  N.  Lincoln  and  W.  Ohio  St. 

Dan  Beardon,  1832  Washington  Ave. 

Moses  Marion,  8  Rush  St. 

Fred  Zielers. 

Charles  Schimmel,  1087  W.  Van  Buren  St. 

Jos.  Hannis,  48  Chicago  Ave. 

Emil  Schwensen,  84  Huron  St. 

Howards,  33d  and  State  St. 

Julius  Hermenn  &  Co.,  Masonic  Temple. 

Otto  Micharls,  35th  and  Kinzie  St. 

Great  Western  Ry.,  Maywood  Station. 

Pete   Brossman,   Commission  Merchant,   115   Exchange    Build- 
ing, $3000.00. 

Aid.  Buck  McCarty. 

J.  H.  Dalhen,  413  Jackson  Boulevard. 

Held  up  Wentworth  Ave.  car,  crowded,  daylight. 

Henri    Kling,    (German    Count),   Lorengo    Mabes,     (supposed 
prince  of  Naples.) 

F.  G.  Partridge,  2819  Indiana  Ave.,  $1000.00. 

Soldier,  15th  Inf.,  held  up  in  Custom  House  Place. 

John  Hurth,  Miner,  held  up  near  400  Clark  St. 

John  Murphy,  725  Root  St. 

Held  up  in  mid  air,  Jos.   E.   Spanheimer,    Rep.    of    Wagnar 
Palace  Car. 

Co  in  elevator,  $512.00. 

Post  Office,  Auburn  Park. 

Dr.  R.  A.  Miley,  3301  Halsted  St. 

F.  B.  McMillin,  101  N.  State  St. 

Christ  Schultz,  Clark  and   12th   St.,  $3500.00. 

J.  Kun,  Nathan  &  Fisher,  Van  Bnren  and  Franklin  St. 

Mrs.  Ellen  Mcllroy,  $1200.00,  205  Congress  St. 

Mrs.  W.  E.  Blair,  432  S.  Oalkey. 

Safety  deposit  Vaults,  Chamber  of  Commerce  Bldg.    Diamonds 
$8300.00. 

Chas.  .Moran,  theatrical  man,  $1000.00,  14  Clark  St. 

Mrs.  D'Alville,  1240  Michigan  Ave. 

Prof.  Gray  and  E.  Gray,  $2000.00. 

A.  J.  Graham. 

Frank  E.  Zahner,  30271-2  S.  Park  Ave. 

Leopold  Wall,  508  37th  St.,  $1000.00. 


WICKED   CITY  REDEEMED.  103 

Matthias  Dicker,  219  Division  St. 

Stanley  Clayhomer,  3214  Laurel  St.,  shot  by  masked  robbers. 

M.  G.  Dealy,  791  W.  Van  Buren  St.,  attorney. 

Albert   Elston,   $458.00. 

Street  Car,  Wentworth  Ave.,  F.  M.   Carsley,  $1,600. 

Henry  Schiffler,  Manager  of  the  Monaco  gambling  hall,  and 
four  men  escorts,  also  Mayor  of  Minonk. 

Kittie  Wells,  one  time  dubed  "Queen  of  the  Levee." 

P.  S.  Schmann,  129  W.  51st  St. 

Edward  Pickard,  Ass't.  City  Auditor.,' 305  La  Salle  Ave.  Held 
up  and  shot. 

Mrs.  Zimmermen,  3412  Waba^h  Ave.,  Jewelry,  $1,800. 

J.  W.  Colton,  Plymouth  and  Taylor  St. 

John  Kipper,  337  5th  Ave. 

J.  C.  Vanderpose,  4904  Princeton  Ave. 

Cisero  &  Proviso,  Archer  Ave.  cars,  12th  St.  trolley. 

Cisero  &  Proviso,  again  in  two  days,  and  again  two  days  later, 
6  times  in  a  month. 

James  Schneider,  5901  Halsted  St.,  and  hundreds  of  others  too 
numerous  to  mention. 

Some  of  the  other  stores  that  suffered  losses  during  the  great 
carnival  of  crime  were:  Marshall  Field  &  Co.,  Carson,  Pine, 
Scott  &  Co.,  Chas  A.  Stevens  &  Bros.,  Mandel  Bros.,  The  Boston 
Store,  The  Fair,  Rothschild  &  Co.,  Siegel,  Cooper  &  Co.,  etc.,  etc. 
Some  of  the  largest  and  best  protected  stores  in  America. 

NOTE — Medical  experts  claim  that  during  the  great  carnivals 
of  crime  there  were  5,000  insane  people  at  liberty  in  Chicago.  Due 
mainly  to  the  enormous  strain  of  commercial  competition  and 
nervous  dread. 

A  death  every  fifteen  minues. 

A  murder  every  seventy  hours. 

A  suicide  every  eighteen  hours. 

A  serious  accident,  necessitating  nurse's  or  physician's  care, 
every  four  minutes. 

A  fatal  accident  every  five  hours. 

A  case  of  assault  and  battery  every  twenty-six  minutes. 

A  burglary  every  three  hours. 

A  holdup  every  six  hours. 

A  disturbance  of  the  peace,  to  attract  attention,  every  six 
seconds. 

A  larceny  every  twenty  minutes. 

An  arrest  every  seven  minutes  and  thirty  seconds. 

A  fire  every  hour. 

An  arrest  for  drunkenness  every  fifteen  minutes. 

7,000  policemen  were  being  kept  busy  day  and  night. 

City  Statistician  Hugo  S.  Grosser  says  that  the  streets  of  Chi- 
cago were  during  the  epidemic  of  crime  "a  veritable  battlefield, 
bloody  as  any  of  the  battlefields  of  war." 


104  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

352  persons  were  killed  and  3,716  injured  in  accidents  in  6 
months. 

NOTE.  The  Author  in  his  story  speaks  of  an  underground  den. 
Could  this  be  it? 

Mattie  Lee,  150  Custom  House  Place,  has  been  frequently 
raided  and  the  police  have  always  wondered  why  they  never  found 
inmates  at  home.  Reports  of  robberies  have  prompted  the  raids. 
Another  raid  was  planned.  Detectives  Woolridge  and  Schubert 
who  carried  the  warrant  found  the  house  deserted  as  usual.  Be- 
fore going  to  the  doors,  they  had  stationed  officers  outside  and  no 
one  was  seen1  to  leave.  A  search  of  the  house  was  then  made,  and 
a  secret  middle  room  was  discovered,  also  a  trap  door  in  the  floor, 
beneath  it  was  a  dark  passageway  leading  under,  ground,  from  this 
the  officers  traced  a  tunnel  extending  200  yds. 

(Chicago  Herald.) 

Tillie  Beekson,  Cashier  at  Kliens,  says  of  the  short  man;  "I 
saw  that  his  eyes  and  hair  were  brown,  I  remember  too  that  I 
thought  what  a  horrible  face  he  had,  he  was  very  dark,  and  his 

face  was  covered  with  blotches"   ,.: 

It  was   the  short  man   with   the  blotched    face  -who  grabbed   the 
money  from  the  cash   drawer,  while  the  tall,  thin  man  stood"  on 

guard  with  two  big  revolvers 

(Chicago  Chronicle.) 

J.  O'Conner,  (Rupperts)  says:  "The  taller  of  the  two  men 
was  very  light  complexioned,  about  24  years  old,  wore  dark  clothes 
of  good  material,  a  stiff  hat  and  a  white  linen  collar.  The  short 
man  was  about  27  years  old,  5  feet,  5  or  6  inches  and  chunky  build. 
His  complexion  was  dark,  and  there  were  pimples  or  pock  marks 
all  over  his  face." 

(Tribune.) 

NOTE.  This  description  fits  the  bandits  who  figure  in  the  story 
beginning  on  page  220,  Part  II. 

The  American  famous  man  hunter  of  Kansas'  wild  days  says 
crimes  of  forty  nations  are  rampant  here. 

"Bat"  Masterson,  who  declares  Chicago  to  be  the  wickedest 
city  in  the  world,  speaks  as  an  expert  on  the  subject  of  wickedness- 

As  Sheriff  on  the  Kansas  frontier  between  '76  and  '81  when  the 
"bad  man"  was  in  his  glory  and  the  Colt's  revolver  upheld  the 
majesty  of  the  law,  he  gained  lots  of  insight  into  the  ways  of  the 
wicked. 


HERE  AND  THERE   ABOUT   THE   SLUMS 


105 


106 


THROUGH   THE   ALLEYS    AND    BY-WAYS 


THE   WHITE  WOMAN'S   BURDEN. 
YOUNG  AND  BEAUTIFUL  ITALIAN  WOMAN  BEARING  A  LOAD  ON  HER  HEAD 


WICKED  CITY  RREDEEMED. 


107 


CHIEF  "SHORT  MAX,"   "RED  CLOUD,"  ETC.     VISITING  CHICAGO  ACCOM- 
PANIED   BY    COWBOYS. 


LADY    BARBERS,    A    UNIQUE    BUSINESS    PLACE    NEAR    THE    CITY    HALL 


108 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


WICKED  CITY  RREDEEMED. 


109 


A  CHUNK  OF  CHICAGO  ATMOSPHERE. 


A  SUNDAY  CROWD  AT  A  PLACE  OF  AMUSEMENT. 


110  WICKED   CITY   REDEEMED. 


FOUND    HANGING    HIGH    ABOVE    THE    STREET.      AN 
INCIDENT   OF    TROUBLESOME    TIMES. 


WICKED  CITY  RREDEEMED.  lit 

L.  M.  Smith,  well-known  banker  and  broker,  was  preparing 
for  a  southern  trip.  He  was  necessarily  brief  and  to  the  point 
regarding  his  views  of  Chicago. 

Chicago  was  a  wicked  city?  Yes.  Chicago  being  redeemed? 
Yes.  Chicago  to  become  the  greatest  city  in  the  world?  Yes. 
Business  bandits  weeded  out?  Yes.  That  Chicago  has  the  most 
rapid  growth  of  any  city?  Yes.  That  under  the  circumstances  it 
is  being  well  governed?  Yes.  That  the  social  side  of  Chicago 
compares  favorably  with  other  cities?  Yes,  indeed. 

Gordon  Strong  &  Co.  operate  one  of  the  most  unique  buildings 
in  Chicago.  It  is  a  gold  and  marble  monument  of  Chicago's  rapid 
growth.  The  business  districts  having  become  so  conjested  that 
the  idea  of  erecting  one  street  above  another,  hundreds  of  feet  in 
the  air  was  practical  and  necessary.  These  streets  of  marble  in 
the  air  were  planned  and. built  by  Gen.  Henry  Strong,  one  of  the 
heroes  of  the  Civil  War.  Mr.  Carey,  the  manager,  informed  the 
interviewer  that  hundreds  of  sightseers  from  all  parts  of  the  coun- 
try visit  the  building  daily  out  of  curiosity. 

The  Republic  Building  is  only  a  fair  sample  of  what  is  being 
done  towards  making  this  a  city  of  wonders. 


CRIME  EXPERTS  TELL  THE  "AMERICAN"  HOW.  TO 
MAKE  CHICAGO  A  BETTER  CITY. 

Commissioner  Bingham,  New  York — Honest  men  in  office  and 
honest  men  under  them  is  the  general  rule  for  the  formation  of 
an  ideal  police  force. 

Director  Moore,  Pittsburg— The  first  thing  necessary  is  a  man 
who  is  fearless  and  capable  at  the  head  of  the  department.  He 
should  be  given  full  power  and  not  be  hampered  by  political  in- 
fluence or  any  other  consideration. 

Superintendent  M'Quaide,  Pittsburg— In  Chief  Collins  Chicago 
has  one  of  the  most  able  men  in  the  country,  and  if  the  people  of 
Chicago  and  the  officials  of  the  city  will  stand  by  him  he  will 
make  it  the  cleanest  great  city  in  the  world. 

Chief  Delaney,  Denver— All  ex-convicts  should  be  closely 
watched.  Once  a  week  the  city  should  be  given  a  thorough  clean- 
ing by  the  dragnet,  and  all  who  could  not  give  an  account  of  them- 
selves should  be  vagged. 

Chief  Taylor,  Philadelphia— Make  the  beats  shorter  and  in- 
crease the  force  of  detectives  in  the  crime  center  districts. 

Lieutenant  Miller,  Milwaukee — Give  orders  to  throw  into  jail 
every  well-known  crook  that  can  be  found  in  the  city.  Send  him 
to  jail  for  vagrancy. 


112  WICKED  CITY      REDEEMED. 

AS  VIEWED  FROM  THE  OUTSIDE. 

Young  and  McCombs,  merchant  princes  of  Rock  Island,  111., 
when  interviewed  by  secretary  said :  We  are  heartily  pleased  to 
hear  of  Chicago's  redemption.  We  believe  this  voices  the  senti- 
ments of  all  the  merchants  in  all  parts  of  the  country.  It  is  a 
fact  that  many  have  been  timid  about  visiting  the  Great  Central 
Market  in  the  past.  This  book  proving  Chicago's  redemption 
will  become  a  power  for  good.  And  Mr.  Stevens,  the  author, 
certainly  deserves  the  highest  praise  from  the  two  millions  of 
residents  of  Chicago  as  well  as  the  thousands  of  outside  merchants 
who  prefer  Chicago  as  a  trading  point.  We  are  in  a  position  to 
know  positively  just  how  Chicago  is  viewed  by  the  outside  mer- 
chants and  others.  It  has  been  viewed  by  all  as  the  wickedest 
city  in  the  world,  and  an  unsafe  city  to  visit.  We  are  two  of  a 
few  who  know  of  the  redemption  from  personal  observations,  and 
the  facts  recorded  in  this  work  should  be  brought  to  the  attention 
of  the  millions,  who  still  believe  Chicago  the  wicked  city.  Let  the 
voice  of  the  Chicago  citizens  (who  know  of  its  redemption)  be 
heard  through  the  all-powerful  press,  it  will  draw  thousands  of 
people  and  add  millions  of  dollars  to  a  city  now  destined  to 
become  the  Ideal  City  of  the  World. 


.WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  113 

NOTICE 

Prize  offers  pages  37-345- 

The  time  allowed  the  reader  in 
which  to  find  the  well  hidden  words 
and  sentences  will  be  three  months  from 
the  time  he  or  she  buys  this  book. 

The  prizes  will  be  awarded  at  any 
time  the  reader  sends  correct  solutions. 

You  will  be  very  lucky  or  unusually 
keen  if  you  find  some  of  these  hidden 
sentences  and  words.  Apparent  errors 
in  punctuation  and  phraseology  may 
help  to  hide  them  well. 

Examine  every  scrap  of  reading  from 
cover  to  cover.  They  might  be  staring 
up  at  you  from  these  very  lines. 

You  can  visit  the  places  where  the 
prizes  are  to  be  put  on  exhibition,  if  still 
there  you  yet  have  a  chance,  no  matter 
if  you  are  late  in  getting  the  book. 

Everything  fair  and  simple. 

You  will  own  them  if  you  earn  them 
and  you  will  certainly  earn  them  if  you 
ever  own  them,  for  you  have  no  easy 
task.  Address  all  communications  to 
Private  Secretary,  2  Aldine  Square,  Chicago. 


WICKED   CITY   REDEEMED. 


115 


THE   OLD   HISTORIC   HARRISON   ST.   STATION,   AND  A 
SAMPLE   OF  DETECTIVES   AND   OFFICERS. 


116 


WICKED   CITY  REDEEMED. 


BATTLING   FOR  REDEMPTION. 


CITY   BEAUTIFUL. 


Like  a  dream 

But  yesterday  night 
It  does  seem, 

Was  the  Red  Man's  last  fight. 


Yet,  from  Indian  band, 

From  custom  old  and  brave  settlers  few, 
From  wooded  slumber  land 

A  great  and  beautiful  city  grew. 


A  city  full  of  wonders, 

A  city  full  of  push  and  vim, 
Reviled  by  jealous  Londoners, 

Skepticism  and  witty  criticism  being  the  world's 


vhim. 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  11T 

CHORUS 
Keep  on  a  going, 

You  will  beat  old  London  town ; 
Keep  on  a  growing, 

And  you  will  be  wearing  the  crown ; 
The  crown  that  fits  the  greatest  city  of  all,  etc.,  etc. 

With  modest  condecension, 

We  checked  our  just  pride, 
And  our  beautiful  city  ceased  to  mention 

Until  a  new  hobby  the  skeptics  began  to  ride. 

From  scandal  perches  they  did  bawl, 

Wickedest  city  in  the  world ; 
Branding  it  deep  upon  our  city  wall 

The  fading  name  "windy"  smothered  by  the  new  one  hurled. 

Spurred  on  by  civic  pride, 

We  buckled  up  our  armour 
And  against  the  devil  did  ride, 

Driving  him  back  to  regions  warmer. 

We  won  a  great  battle 

Fighting  for  our  city's  good  name: 
We  silenced  the  world's  prattle 

And  put  the  slanders  to  shame. 

From  wage  earners  to  prince  of  finance 

Went  up  a  battle-cry  fearful, 
Went  up  the  battle  lance 

That  won  the  name,  CITY  BEAUTIFUL. 

A  world  metropolis  today, 

Greatest  city  of  the  Nation ; 
Bravely  fighting  its  way 

To  just  appreciation. 

The  old  names  are  fast  fading  away, 
CITY  BEAUTIFUL  takes  its  proper  place, 

And  upon  the  city  walls  it  will  forever  stay 
A  world's  beacon  light,  A  TRUTH  TO  FACE. 

CHORUS 
Keep  on  a  going, 

You  will  beat  old  London  town; 
Keep  on  a  growing, 

And  you  will  be  wearing  the  crown ; 
The  crown  that  fits  the  greatest  city  of  all ; 


118  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

The  crown  that  fits  its  merchant  princes; 
The  <:rown  that  fits  the  safest  city  of  all ; 

The  crown  that  fits  its  honest  wage  earners; 
The  crown  that  fits  the  cleanest  city  of  all; 

The  crown  that  fits  its  honest  politicians; 
The  crown  that  fits  the  most  hospitable  city  of  all; 

The  crown  that  fits  the  loyal  press ; 
The  crown  that  fits  the  richest  city  of  all. 

The  crown  that  fits  its  millionaires  and  the  poor  as  well; 

The  crown  that  fits  the  swiftest  growth  of  all; 
Its  building  being  but  a  night's  fancy  and  the  strenuous  work  of  a 

day 
Compared  to  the  dear  old  mother  cities  across  the  briny  way. 

The  above  ode  to  Chicago  by  the  author  of  "Wicked  City,"  is 
dedicated  to  the  members  of  the  Chicago  Commercial  Association. 

This  association  deserves  much  of  the  credit  due  the  great 
army  of  sturdy  knights  who  took  up  the  lance  in  defence  of  Chi- 
cago's good  name. 

They  will  not  loosen  a  buckle  until  the  fact  of  its  redemption 
is  known,  recognized  and  accepted  by  the  people  of  the  great  out- 
side world,  who  are  not  here  to  judge  and  see  for  themselves  what 
has  been  done  and  what  is  being  done  to  keep  Chicago  as  holy  as 
it  is  beautiful. 

The  followin  speeches  (in  part),  dei;vered  by  its  la  president 
and  the  city's  mayor  were  warmly  accepted  as  the  sentiment  of  the 
members  and  guests  at  a  banquet  lately  held  in  the  Auditorium- 

MUSIC   STARTS  FESTIVITIES. 

There  was  lively  music  prior  to  the  delivery  of  the  speeches- 
Professor  Johnny  Hand  was  the  directing  genius,  his  piece  de  resist- 
ance being  "Stein  Song,"  which  he  inaugurated  by  leaping  onto 
a  chair  with  a  half-filled  stein  in  one  hand  and  a  baton  in  the 
other.  The  audience  responded  lustily,  much  to  the  leader's  joy. 
The  applause  was  so  sincere  that  Mr.  Hand  ordered  for  an  encore 
"The  Good  Old  Summer  Time." 

Those  at  the  speakers'  table  beside  Toastmaster  Shedd  and 
Mayor  Dunne  were  the  following: 

Rt.  Rev.  C.  P.  Anderson.  C  A.  Stevens. 

Judge  Jesse  Holdom.  C.  A.  Goodnow- 

Lafayette  McWilliams.  J.  Harry  Selz. 

J-  M-  Johnson.  George  H.  Crosby. 

J.  V.  Farwell,  Jr.  Joseph  Basch. 

E.  D.  Hulburt.  Isaac  Keim. 

Frank  B.   Noyes.  B.  M.  Hanney. 

J.  S.  Seymour.  M.  B.  Starring. 

J.  H.  Calhoun.  T.  E.  Mitten. 

A.  A.  McCormick.  Franklin  MacVeagh. 


WICKED   CITY  REDEEMED.  119 

E.  A.  Bancroft.  Erskine  M.  Phelps. 

A.  M.  Compton.  A.  L.  Baker. 

J.  W.  Scott.  Frederick  Herman  Gade- 

J.  E.  Wilder.  Arthur  D.  Wheeler. 

E.  G.  Foreman*  T.  K.  Webster. 

W.  .  Wilson.  John  R.  Thompson. 

D.  R.  Forgan.  Frank  Wenter. 

W.  J.  Harahan.  Dr.  Paul  Carus- 

H.  W.  Seymour.  Robert  W.  Gertz,  Boston. 

Leigh  Reilly.  Henry  A-   Ware,   Boston. 

A.  Wygant.  Emil  A.  Gertz,  Hanover, 

Germany. 

John  G-  Shedd  presented  the  several  speakers.  His  opening 
speech  was  directed  to  the  Mayor  of  Chicago,  who  sat  at  his  right. 

"We  are  here  to-night,  happy  and  unanimous,"  he  said,  "to 
light  new  and  vestal  fires  upon  the  altar  of  Chicago,  every  wor- 
shiper dedicating  his  homage  to  the  past,  his  hope  to  the  future, 
and  his  unconquerable  will  to  the  work  of  to-day." 

HOPE  IN   CIVIC  VIRTUES. 

A  few  moments  later  Mr.  Shedd  turned  to  the  mayor  and  said: 

"Therefore  to  you,  Mr.  Mayor,  and  to  all  your  worthy  suc- 
cessors, we  now  offer  the  sympathy  of  all  Chicagoans  who  believe 
that  not  in  partisanship  and  spoils,  but  in  the  three  civic  virtues 
preached  by  President  Roosevelt,  in  honesty,  courage  and  common 
sense,  lies  the  hope  of  our  great  cities  and  of  a  greater  Chicago. 

"Although  we  speak  in  forty-four  tongues,  yet  is  the  tower 
we'  build  no  Babel,  for  out  of  confusion  cometh  unity.  This  tower 
set  four  squares  to  all  the  best  that  blows  is  a  new  world  citizen- 
ship wrought  of  two  score  peoples  harmonized1  in  300  public  schools, 
and  taught  to  intelligently  and  patriotically  seek  the  practice  and 
ideals  of  liberty,  equality  and  fraternity."' 

Mr.  Shedd  was  applauded  when  in  speaking  for  co-operation 
between  business  men  and  the  city  government  he  said : 

"In  co-operation  we  shall  have  perfect  urban  transportation, 
business  men,  business  methods  and  business  results  in  the  city 
hall ;  charter  improvements  leading  toward  economy,  order  and 
justice;  the  elimination  of  partisenship  of  all  kinds  in  school  ad- 
ministration and  the  expansion  of  the  schools  as  academies  of  com- 
merce." 

The  Mayor  of  city  beautiful  said : 

"I  am  pleased  to  be  present  and  to  meet  so  many  of  my  fellow 
citizens  who  stand  high  in  the  commercial  world  of  the  City  of 
Chicago.  Next  to  his  country,  every  citizen  dwelling  in  a  city 
should  have  the  particular  interests  of  his  city  at  heart.  And  I 
have  yet  to  meet  a  Chicagoan  who  is  not  proud  of  his  city — proud 
of  its  present  and  hopeful  and  sanguine  of  its  future. 

"We  are  met  to-night  to  consider  primarily  what  is  for  the 
best  interests  of  this  great  and  growing  city.  What  are  its  draw- 


120  WICKED   CITY  REDEEMED. 

backs,  if  any,  and  what  measure  we  can  devise  and  further  to  insure 
its  future  development  and  prosperity. 

"Chicago,  in  my  judgment,  is  the  greatest  city  of  America, 
not  in  population  nor  in  wealth,  but  in  energy,  activity  and  vitalized 
ambition  in  both  commercial  and  economic  directions.  It  is  the 
nerve  center  of  America,  from  which  pulsates  and  throbs  the  ad- 
vanced thought  and  energy  of  the  American  people. 

MANY  CLASSES  FOUND  HERE. 

"It  is  a  city  of  palaces  and  hovels,  a  city  of  churches  and  of 
charnel  houses,  a  city  of  millionaires  and  mendicants,  into  which 
has  poured  the  children  of  every  race  and  clime  upon  earth,  and 
it  has  been  rapidly  assimilating  all  classes  of  people  into  good 
American  citizenship.  It  is  the  theater  of  political  action.  It  is  the 
center  of  political  economic  thought.  It  is  a  city  of  courage  and 
determination. 

"We  all  love  Chicago  and  heartily  wish  for  its  future  prosperity 
and  development.  You  men,  leaders  in  the  commercial  world  of 
Chicago,  are  anxious  to  attract  to  it  the  trade  and  commerce  of 
the  Northwest,  and  I  am  heartily  desirous,  and  I  know  the  offi- 
cials of  the  City  of  Chicago  are  equally  desirous,  of  aiding  your 
wishes  in  that  direction,  and  no  stone  will  be  left  unturned  to  as- 
sijt  you  in  benefiting  this  city  which  we  love  and  in  which  we 
dwell. 

"We  should  encourage  in  every  possible  way  the  holding  of 
commercial,  fraternal  and  other  conventions  in  this  city.  We  should 
advertise  the  advantages  and  resources  of  our  city  in  every  pos- 
sible direction.  Because  of  our  magnificent  location  in  the  center 
of  the  Northwest,  because  of  our  magnificent  railway  and  water 
facilities,  we  ought  to  be  able,  and  we  are  able,  to  sell  merchandise 
of  every  ^character  in  this  city  upon  as  economic  a  basis  as  any  city 
in  America." 

A  complete  list  of  the  guests  at  the  "Mayor's  Dinner,"  given 
by  the  Chicago  Commercial  Association,  follows: 

A. 

Adam,  A.  B.— Edson  Keith  &  Co. 
Adams,  J.  M. — Art  Bedstead  Company. 
Adams,  P.  W.— Art  Bedstead  Company. 
Anderson,  W.  G. — Juergens  &  Anderson. 
Armbruster,  F.  P. — Burley  &  Tyrrell. 
Audebert,  E.  A.— Audebert  Wall  Paper  Mills. 
Ash,  M.  L.— Kuh,  Nathan  &  Fischer. 
Austin,  M.  B. — M.  B.  Austin  &  Co. 
Adams,  J.  L.— H.  O.  Stone  &  Co. 
Allen,  Bert  A.— Curtis  H.  Allen. 
Allen,  Charles  B. — United  States  Rubber  Co. 
Ackers,  T.  B. — Shoe  and  Leathern  Association. 
Aishton,  R.  H.— Chicago  and  Northwestern  Ry. 


WICKED   CITY  REDEEMED.  121 


Baith,  L.  L. — Edward  Hines  Lumber  Company. 

Babcock,  A.  J. — Manning,  Maxwell  &  Moore. 

Baker,  Alfred  L.— Alfred  L.  Baker  &  Co. 

Baker,  W.  N. — Trout  Hardware  Company. 

Bales,  Fred  T. — Lord  &  Bushnell  Company. 

Barker,  W.  G.— Hibbard,  Spencer,  Bartlett  &  Co. 

Barbour,  F. — Critchell,  Miller,  Whitney  &  Barbour. 

Barlow,  H.  C. — Chicago  Shippers'  Association. 

Barness,  James  M. — Marshall  Field  &  Co. 

Barrett,  R.  B. — Barrett  Bindery  Company. 

Barnhart,  Kenneth — Marshall  Field  &  Co. 

Barrett,  M.  L. — M.  L.  Barrett  &  Co. 

Bass,  P.  D. 

Beachel,  Charles  F.— Sewall-Clapp  Mfg.  Co. 

Becker,  B.  F.— Becker-Mayer  &  Co. 

Becker,  A.  W. — Becker-Mayer  &  Co. 

Beifeld,  A.— Beifeld,  Hirsch  &  Kline. 

Benjamin,  E.  O.— Roth  Brothers  &  Co. 

Bennett,  N.  J. — 159  LaSalle  street. 

Bennett,  W.  N. — Cotton  Belt  Lumber  Company. 

Burns,   John   E. — John   E.    Burns   Lumber   Company. 

Buerger,  Arthur — Schoelkopf  &  Co. 

Bredemeier,  E.  W.— E.  D.  St.  George  Mfg.  Co. 

Berg,  John — John  Berg  &  Brothers. 

Baroett,  M. — Joseph  Phillipson. 

Boyd,  Henry — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 

Baifre,  George  P. — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 

Brown,  R.  D. — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 

Bernard,  W.  A. — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 

Burt,  A.  G. — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 

Bradley,  F.  J. — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 

Barnhart,  Morris. 

Butler,  J.  Fred. 

Bryan,  W.  C.— A.  C.  Becken. 

Becken,  A.  C. — A.  C.  Becken. 

Bent,  Charles  A.— George  P.  Bent. 

Benzinger,  A. — The  Hub. 

Best,  A.  Starr— A.  Starr  Best  Company. 

Biggs,  F.  H. — Nonotuck  Silk  Company. 

Black,  S.  H.— Bauer  &  Black. 

Blackman,  H.  E. — The  John  Davis  Company. 

Blount,  F.  M.— Chicago  National  Bank. 

Blum,  Simon — Blum  Brothers. 

Blum,  Julius. 

Brenner,  Nathan  T. 

Bobo,  John  L. — John  L.  Bobo  &  Co. 

Bobo,  Fred  M. 

Bode,  Frederick — Gage  Brothers  &  Co. 


122  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

Burton,  Charles  G. — National  Electric  Company. 

Brauer,  Paul. 

Brauer,  Casp. 

Brede,  M.  L.— Albert  Pick  &  Co. 

Breining,  J.  C. — Hibbard,  Spencer,  Bartlett  &  Co. 

Brintnall,  W.  H. — Drovers'  Deposit  National  Bank. 

Brigham,  Edmund  D.— C.  &  N.  W.  Ry. 

Brown,  E.  LeRoy — S.  S.  Page. 

Brown,  Charles  E. — Central  Electric  Company. 

Brown,  John  H. — Gutta  Percha  and  R.  Mfg. 

Brown,  W.  F.— E.  I..  Hedstrom  &  Co. 

Bruce,  C.  A.— Miller  &  Hart. 

Buchanan,  W.  W. — Baker- Vawter  Company. 

Budinger,  F.— Keith  Bros.  &  Co. 

Buel,  M.  P.— E.  S.  B.  Co. 

Burke,  E.  A.— Hibbard,  Spencer,  Bartlett  &  Co. 

Brown,  W.  H. — Sturges  &  Brown  Mfg.  Co. 

Bush,  William  H.— William  H.  Bush  &  Co. 

Bush,  J.  M.— Acme  Mfg.  Co. 

Buttolph,  R.  B.— W.  M.  Hoyt  Co. 

Buttolph,  A.  C.— W.  M.  Hoyt  Co. 

Buxbaum,  E. — Kuh,  Nathan  &  Fischer. 

Byles,  L.  M. — Nelson  Morris  &  Co. 

Byrne,  J.  P.— Lyon  &  Healy. 


Castle,  Charles  B. — American  Trust  and  Savings  Bank. 

Cheney,  J.  T.— Burley  &  Tyrell. 

Cleney,  J.  E. — J.  W.  Sefton  Manufacturing  Co. 

Conway,  E.  S.— W.  W.  Kimball  Company. 

Craig,  C.  F. — Metropolitan  Savings  Bank. 

Carpenter,  Benjamin — George  B.  Carpenter  &  Co. 

Cahn,  S.  B.— H.  F.  Hahn  &  Co. 

Covert,  Rev.  W.  C. 

Cunningham,  Frank  S. — Butler  Brothers. 

Creelman,  F.  E. — F.  E.  Creelman  Company. 

Cook,  W.  C. — Western  Trust  and  Savings  Bank. 

Combs,  P.  W.— Audelbert  Wall  Paper  Mill. 

Colvin,  Edwin  M.— W.  F.  Hall  Printing  Company. 

Cleveland,  J.  M. — Cable  Company. 

Cox,  A.  F. — Teno  Mfg.  Co. 

Coleman,  W.  O.— Burley  &  Co. 

Colbert,  D.  V.— Miller  &  Hart. 

Cofran,  J.  W.  G.— Cofran  &  Dugan. 

Coey,  Grant — Hettler  Lumber  Company. 

Cloft,  Clement — Sewall,  Clapp  Mfg.  Co. 

Chester,  H.  W.— Hibbard,  Spencer,  Bartlett  &  Co. 

Charles,  J.  J. — Hibbard,  Spencer,  Bartlett  &  Co. 

Case,  E.  B. — Moore,  Case,  Lyman  &  Herrick. 


WICKED   CITY  REDEEMED. 

Crampton,  R.  L. — National  Bank  of  the  Republic. 
Casey,  E.  L. — Herman  H.  Hettler  Lumber  Co. 
Carr,  C.  M.— Joseph  T.  Ryerson  &  Co. 
Cahn,  Morten  D. — Benjamin  R.  Cahn. 
Cahn,  Benjamin  R. — Benjamin  R.  Cahn. 


Dair,  C.   E. — Rothschild  Company. 

Davis,  S.  S.— Inter.  Shirt  &  C.  Company. 

Day,  Chapin  A.— M.  F.  &  Co.,  wholesale. 

Denvir,  J.  F. — Becker,  Mayer  &  Co. 

Defebaugh,  J.   E. — American  Lumberman. 

Diggles,  J.  W. — Diggles  &  Gordon. 

Dixon,  George  W. — Arthur  Dixon  Mfg.  Co. 

Dodge,  O.  D. — P.   G.  Dodge  Lumber  Company. 

Dodge,  E.  F. — P.  G.  Dodge  Lumber  Company. 

Drain,  C.  L.— Marshall   Field  &  Co. 

Drake,   L.    M. — Critchell,   Miller,   Whitney   &    Barbour. 

Draper,  H.  L. — Cable  Company. 

Duncan,  James  W. 

Duncan.  John  A. — Hollis  &  Duncan. 

Dunn,  W.  P. — W.  P.  Dunn  Company. 

Durand,  Elliott— Heath  &  Milligan   Mfg.  C6. 


Eastman,   Robert   M.— W.   F.   Hall    Printing   Co. 

Ebeling,  George — Gage  Bros.  &  Co. 

Eden,  W.  L. — Paul  Brauer. 

Ederheimer  &  Co. 

Edwards,  J.  T.— L.  Gould  &  Co. 

Eitel,    Emil — Hotel    Bismarck    Company. 

Eitel,   Karl — Hotel   Bismarck   Company. 

Emmerich,   E.   E.— Charles  Emmerich  &  Co. 


Fay,  John  B.— A.   C.   McClurg  &   Co. 
Fenton,   W.   T.— National   Bank  of   the    Republic. 
Ferguson,   Louis — Chicago   Edison   Company. 
Field,   Stanley— Marshall   Field  &  Co.,   wholesale. 
Finn,  Joseph  M.— Albert  Pick  &  Co. 
Finnigan,  R.  J. — Joseph   Stockton  Company. 
Fisk,  H.   S.— Dry  Goods   Reporter. 
Fisher,   C. — Juergens   &   Anderson. 
Fitzgerald,  H.  J. — Fitzgerald  Trunk  Company. 
Fleetwood,   Stanley— Fleetwood  &   Pellet. 
Fleishman,   M.    S. — M.    S.   Fleishman   Company. 
Flershem,  W. — Lapp  &  Flershem. 
Floersheim,  Jacob — J.  Floersheim  Company. 
Florsheim,  M.  S. — Kabo  Corset  Company. 


124  WICKED   CITY  REDEEMED. 

Ford,  W.  J.— Burley  &  Tyrrell. 

Foreman,  Edwin  G. — Foreman  Brothers'  Bank. 

Forgan,  D.   R.— First  National   Bank. 

Foster,   Charles   K. — American    Radiator   Company. 

Francis,  P.  D.— Trade   Periodical   Company. 

Francis,  William — Francis  &   Nygren  Foundry. 

Frank,  David — Albert   Pick  &   Co. 


Gale,   George   C. — Peninsular  Stove  Company. 

Ganaghu,   T.   F. — Ganaghu   Brothers. 

Gatzert,  August — Rosenwald  &  Weil. 

Gauger,  John  A. — John  L.  Bobo  &  Co. 

Gault,  A.  E. — Schultz  &  Hirsch  Company. 

Gerould,  F.  W.— A.  G.  Spalding  &  Brothers. 

Gertz,  Emil — Cable  Company. 

Gertz,  R.  W. — Cable  Company. 

Gilbert,  James  H.— Metropolitan  T.   and   S.   Bank. 

Gilmer,   Thomas   L. — Sewall-Clapp    Mfg.    Co. 

Gould,  Frank — Le  Gould  &  Co. 

Gradwell,   Ricord — Oliver  Typewriter  Company. 

Grady,  J.   E. — Oliver  Typewriter  Company. 

Grammen,  G. — New  York  Central  Lines. 

Graves,  A.  M. — Hibbard,  Spencer,  Bartlett  &   Co. 

Greer,  Frederic — Harvard  Electric   Company. 

Groth,  M.  A. — Mahin  Advertising  Company. 

Guise,  A.  C. — Mahin  Advertising  Company. 

Gunther,  C.  F. — C.  F.  Gunther. 

Guthmann,   Richard — Richard   Guthmann   Trans. 

H 

Hagan,  H.   M. — Johnson  &  Tomek. 

Hahn,  Harry  W.— H.  F.  Hahn  Company. 

Hahn,  H.   S.— H.   F.  Hahn  Company. 

Hahn,  E.  J.— H.  F.  Hahn  Company. 

Budinger,  T. — Keith  Brothers  &  Co. 

Hanck,  C.  E.— Francis  &  Nygren  Foundry. 

Harahan,  W.  J. — Illinois   Central  Railroad. 

Hardin,  John  H. — F.  A.  Hardy  Company. 

Healy,  C.  F.— N.  K.  Fairbank  Company. 

Hebard,  Frank — Hebard  Van   Company. 

Hener,  August — A.  S.  Klein   Company. 

Herrick,    Charles   E. — Ellsworth   &    Cross    Company. 

Hewitt,  W.  H.— Pitkin  &  Brooks. 

Hester,  Stephen. 

Herzog,  L. — Lyon   Brothers. 

Hill,  E.  K.— Heywood  Bros.  &  Wakefield   Co, 

Hill,  C.  H.— Heywood  _  Bros.  &  Wakefield   Co. 

Hines,   Edward — E.   Hines  Lumber   Company. 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  128 

Hirsch,  Morris— Beifeld,  Hirsch  &  Kline. 
Hirsch,   S.  J.— Hirsh,   Wickwire  &   Co. 
Hoefeld,  Albert— Albert  Hoefeld. 
Holden,  J.  E—  Marshall  Field  &  Co.,  retail. 
Holloway,  H.  G.  —James  S.  Kirk  &  Co. 
Howell,   William— Burley  &  Tyrrell. 
Howell,  C.  D.  E. — Illinois  Brick  Company. 
Hurlbut,  Charles  J.— H.  W.  Rogers  &  Bro. 
Hypes,  W.  F.— Marshall  Field  &  Co. 

J 

Jacobsen,   R.   C. — Jacobsen   Publishing   Company. 
Jakubowske,  Karl — M.   S.   Fleishman   &  Co. 
Jenkins,   George  R. — George   R.   Jenkins  &  Co. 
Jenks,  Parker  A. — Hollis  &  Duncan. 
Johnson,  W.  H. — Anchor  Line. 
Johnson,  J.  M. — Gould  Lines. 
Judson,   W.    B. — American    Lumberman. 
Juergens,  W.  M. — Juergens  &  Anderson. 

K 

Karpen,  Adolph — S.   Karpen    Brothers. 

Karpen,   Solomon — S.   Karpen   Brothers. 

Kawin,  M. — Kawin  &   Co. 

Kayser,  Charles  W.— Joseph  Wild  &  Co. 

Keefe,  D.   G. — Cable   Company. 

Kellogg,  J.   L. — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 

Kelsey,  M.    N. — Baker- Vawter   Company. 

Kelsey,   P.   T. — Baker- Vawter  Company. 

Kent,  H.   R. — Fort  Dearborn   National   Bank. 

Kerrigan,    P.    B. — Shoe   and   Leather  Association. 

Kerstein,   J.   M. — Shoe   and   Leather   Association. 

Kilbourne,  L.  B.— C.  H.  Weaver  &  Co. 

Kimball,  A.   S. — Shoe   and  Leather   Association. 

Kimball,   C.   N.— W.   W.   Kimball   Company. 

Kimball,  R.  E. — Rathborne,  Hair  &  Ridgway. 

Kimball,  W.  G. — Pittsburg  Plate  Glass  Company. 

King,   A.   N. — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 

Kiper,   Herman — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 

Kiper,  Charles — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 

Kirschberger,  W.  A.— M.  Born  &  Co. 

Kline,   Samuel  J. — B.  Kuppenheimer  &  Co. 

Kline,  Sol— Beifeld,  Hirsch  &  Kline. 

Kline,  A.  S. — A.  S.  Kline  Company. 

Kling,  Leopold — Kling  Brothers  &  Co. 

Kohn,  Isaac  A.— Selz,  Schwab  _&  Co. 

Kroeschell,  William  L. — American   Can  Company. 

Kuh,  J.   S.— Kuh,  Nathan  &  Fischer. 

Kuhlmey,  Albert — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 


12fl  WICKED   CITY  REDEEMED. 

Kuhlmey,  Albert— A.   Ortmayer  &  Son. 
Kundstadter,   A. — Kunstadter   Brothers. 
Kuppenheimer,  L.  B. — B.  K.   Kuppenheimer   Co. 
Kuppenheimer,  A.  B. — B.  K.  Kuppenheimer  Co. 


Lamb,   C.   S.— Pittsburg   Plate  Glass   Company. 

Lance,  L.   C. — Simmons  Manuf'g.   Co. 

Lawton,  L.  C. — Duck  Brand  Company. 

Schman,  William. — Gage  Downs  Company. 

Lederer,  W.  D. — Lederer  Brothers  &  Co. 

Levering,  Mortimer — Mallory  Com.  Company. 

Levy,  S.  H. — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 

Levy,  Larry — Sturm,  Mayer  &  Co. 

Lincoln,  George  E. — Mergenthaler  Linotype  Co. 

Loper,  Charles  D.— Mullen  &  Co. 

Lord,  D.  M. — Metropolitan  Trust  and  Sav.  Bank. 

Lowe,  Willard  W. — Electric  Appliance  Company. 

Lusch,  H.  B. — Continental  National  Bank  of  Chicago* 

Linn,  Frank — Hibbard,  Spencer,  Bartlett  &  Co. 

Lyon,  Cooper — Cleveland  Faucet  Compnay. 

Lyon,  Mark  T. — Lyon  Brothers. 

Lytton,  Henry  C.— The  Hub. 

Lytton,  George — The  Hub. 

M. 

McLauchlan,  A.  C. — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 
MacNiven,  H.  E.— Joseph  Stockton  Co. 
McAdow,  F.  H. — Staver  Carriage  Company. 
Marks,  C.  V. — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 
McBride,  William — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 
McBride,  G.  J. — Summer,  Jones  &  Co. 
McClary,  H.  C— Fairbanks,  Morse  &  Co. 
McCorkle,  J.  H. — Janeway  &  Carpenter. 
McFuen,  W.  R. — Bartlett  Manufacturing  Co. 
McFarland,  Henry  J. — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 
McMillan,  W.  J.— N.  K.  Fairbank  Co. 
McRoy,  George  G. — A.  B.  Adam. 
Mallen,  H.  W.— H.  Z.  Mallen  &  Co. 
Manchee,  0.  A.— L.  Gould  &  Co. 
Mann,  J.  P. — Morris,  Mann  &  Reilly. 
Mansure,  E.  L. — E.  L.  Mansure  Co. 
Merchant,  S.  F.— Pilcher-Hamilton  Company. 
Marimon,  Frank — Sheldon  School. 
Marks,  Kossuth— Critchell,  Miller,  W.  &  B. 
Marsh,  Charles  A. — Mr.  Defebaugh. 
Masters,  E. — Rathbone,  Hair  &  Ridgeway. 
Mathews,  Al — Cumner,  Jones  &  Co. 
Manns,  J.  E. — Schwarzschild  &  Sulzberger, 
Maxwell,  Charles  E. — S.  A.  Maxwell, 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  127 

Maxwell,  Edward  E.— S.  A.  Maxwell  &  Co. 
Mayer,  Morris — Sturm,  Mayer  &  Co. 
McLeish,  Andrew — Carson  Pirie,  Scott  &  Co. 
Michael,  John  C— John  C.  Michael  &  Oaks. 
Miller,  G.  S. — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 
Miller,  Maurice — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 
Miller,  B.  C— Critchell,  Miller  W.  &  B. 
Miller,  John  G.— John  G.  Miller  &  Co. 
Miller,  Fred  H.— Kehm,  Fietsch  &  Miller. 
Miller,  W.  H.— Miller  &  Hart. 
Miller,  W.  E.— Fairbanks,  Morse  &  Co. 
Moeng,  E.  D. — Paul  Brauer. 
Moody,  F.  K. — Pilcher-Hamilton  Company. 
Mooney,  W.  C— W.  W.  Mooney  &  Sons  Co. 
Moore,  W.  S.-W.  S,  Moore  &  Co. 
Morris,  Harry — Morris,  Mann  &  Reilly. 
Morton,  A.  H. — Sturm,  Mayer  &  Co. 
Morrow,  Charles  B.— Great  Western  Fix.  Wks. 
Muller,  Lewis  G. — Northern  Bank  Note  Co. 
Murray,  Joseph  E. — Butler  Brothers. 
Musgrave,  Harrison — Musgrave,  Vroman  &  Co. 

N. 

Neilson,  J.  D. — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 
Nind,  J.  N. — Trade  Periodical  Company. 
Northop,  C.  T. — Northrop  Com.  Company. 
Noyes,  La  Verne,  W. — Aermotor  Company. 

O. 

Osborn,  C.  D.— C.  D.  Osborn  Company. 

Miller,  Eugene  C. — Osgood  Company. 

Otis,  Joseph  E. — Western  Trust  and  Savings  Bank. 

Owen,  Jas.  R. — Morrison,  Plummer  &  Co. 

Owen,  R.  W. — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 

P. 

Page,  S.  S. 

Page,  Cecil— S.  S.  Page. 

Palmer,  Dudley  C. — Percival  B.  Palmer  Company. 

Palmer,  P.  B. — Percival  B.  Palmer  Company. 

Paullin,  George  W. 

Peck,  C.  M.— "Strahorn." 

Pellet,  Clarence  S.— Fleetwood  &  Pellet. 

Pennington,  F.  K. — Oliver  Typewriter  Company. 

Pettibone,  Amos — P.  F.  Pettibone  &  Co. 

Phelps,  R.  C— Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 

Pick,  Albert— Albert  Pick  &  Co. 

Pierce,  F.  W. — Manhattan  Electric  S.  Co. 

Pirie,  J.  T.— Carson,  Pirie,  Scott  &  Co, 


128  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

Porter,  J.  M.— Porter  &  Berg. 

Porter,  Washington — Majestic  Building  Company. 

Powers,  Harry  J. — Powers  Theater. 

Powers,  F.  A. — Union  Wire  Mattress  Company. 

Powers,  W.  P. — Union  Wire  Mattress  Company. 

Powers,  O.  M. — Metropolitan  Business  College. 

Powers,  W.  S.— Wilson  Brothers. 

Pratt,  J.  F. — Smith- Wallace  Shoe  Company. 

Prochnow,  R.  F. 

Proctor,  J.  L. — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 

Pyatt,  J.  E.— E.  P.  Reed  &  Co. 

Pinkham,  J.  B. — Chicago  Evening  Post 


Raff,  H.  D. — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 

Ralston,  J.  C. — Beckley-Ralston  Company. 

Raser,  W.  S.— Swift  &  Co. 

Raymer,  Walter  J. — American  Tin  Company. 

Reilly,  Leigh — Chicago  Eveing  Post. 

Reilly,  F.  O. — Morris,  Mann  &  Reilly. 

Reiss,  H.  D.— Albert  Pick  &  Co. 

Robertson,  D.  C. — Miller  &  Hart. 

Robertson,  T.  E. — Hoffheimer  Soap  Company. 

Roessler,  Carl— Kaiserhof  Hotel. 

Rose,  Edward — Edward  Rose  &  Co. 

Rosenthal,  B.  J. 

Roth,  John  C. — Congress  Hotel  Company. 

Roth,  G.  A.— Roth  Brothers  &  Co. 

Roth,  Charles  H.— Roth  Brothers  &  Co. 

Rudhart,  R.  P. — E.  L.  Mansure  Company. 

Rudolph,  Franklin — American  Can  Company. 

Rubovits,  Toby— Toby  Rubovits. 


Scheidenhelm,  F.  J. — American  T.  and  S.  Bank. 
Schell,  R.  L. — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 
Schlesinger,  B.  F.— Carson,  Pirie,  Scott  &  Co. 
Schmidt,  John  A. — Metropolitan  T.  and  S.  Bank. 
Schnadig,  J.— B.  D.  Eisendrath  &  Co. 
Schnadig,  E.  M. — Charles  Emmerich  &  Co. 
Schofield,  John  R. — Butler  Brothers. 
Schmering,  J.— Otto  Young  &  Co. 
Schroeder,  George — James  S.  Kirk  &  Co. 
Schweitzer,  Sam — Stern,  Mayer  &  Co. 
Scott,  John  W.— Carson  Pirie,  Scott  &  Co. 
Scott,  F.  H. — Carson,  Pirie,  Scott  &  Co. 
Scott.  Robert  L.— Carson,  Pirie,  Scott  &  Co. 
Seaman,  George  W.— Bermingham  &  Seaman  Co. 
Seaman,  Hallcck  S.— L,  I.  and  Minn.  Ry. 


WICKED   CITY  REDEEMED.  129 

Selz,  J.  Harry— Selz,  Schwab  &  Co. 
Shalek,  James  A. — Atlas  Brewing  Company. 
Shaw,  Frank  S. — Cable  Company. 
Shelden,  George  W.— G.  W.  Shelden  &  Co. 
Sherman,  E. — Guthman,  Carpenter  &  T. 
Sherman,  Roger — W.  M.  White  Company. 
Shine,  Joseph — Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 
Shtfrtleff,  W.  C. — Morrison,  Plummer  &  Co. 
Sidder,  A.  J. — A.  J.  Sidder  Company. 
Simonds,  Alvan  T.— Simonds  Manufacturing  Co. 
Simpson,  Tames — Marshall  Field  &  Co.,  wholesale. 
Skinner,  W.  E.— Union  Stock  Yards. 
Skinner,  George  R. — Skinner  Brothers. 
Skinner,  E.  M. — Wilson  Brothers. 
Slaton,  George  W.— Charles  H.  Mears  &  Co. 
Smoal,  Hubo  W. — John  Davis  Company. 
Smith,  Henry  T.— Bradner  Smith  &  Co. 

T. 

Thomas,  E.  S. — Shoe  and  LeatherAssociation. 

Thompson,  W.  M.— Kelley,  Maus  &  Co. 

Thorn,  Frank— Marshall  Field  &  Co. 

Tiffany,  L.  L. — O.  W.  Richardson  &  Co. 

Teste,  William  H.— Jenkins,  Kreer  &  Co. 

Tomek,  F.  F. — Johnson  &  Tomek  Company. 

Town,  D.  E.— Chicago  Evening  Post. 

Traner,  F. — F.  Traner. 

Trowbridge,  C.  M.— Burley  &  Co. 

Trout,  George  M. — Trout  Hardware  Company. 

Taber,  F.  N.— Shoe  and  Leather  Association. 

Taft,  James — Taft  Brothers. 

Teich,  Max— Kaiserhof  Hotel. 

Terrell,  Alfred — Simmons  Manufacturing  Co. 

Thomas,  John  W.— Royal  Trust  Company. 

V. 

Vehon,  Morris — Royal  Tailors. 
Vernon,  David — Commercial  National  Bank. 
Vierbuchen,  William  C. — Chicago  Hotel  Company. 
Vopicka,  Charles  J. — Atlas  Brewing  Company. 
Vorce,  H.  T.— Chicago  Evening  Post. 
Vroman,  Charles  E.— Murgrave,  Vroman  &  Lee. 
Vawter,  William — Baker- Vawter  Company. 

W.. 

Walker,  S.  L.— Gage  Brothers. 

Wagner,  George — Gage  Brothers. 

Watson,  T.  A.— Watson-Plummer  Shoe  Company. 

Watson,  George  E. — G.  E.  Watson  Company. 


130  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

-  Webster,  D.  F.— A.  L.  Webster. 
Webster,  G.  A. 
Webster,  A.  L. 

Webster,  T.  K.— Webster  Manufacturing  Co. 
Weil,  L. 

Weinberg,  A.— Beifeld,  Hirsch  &  Kline. 
.Wentz,  H.  B.— Beacon  Falls  Rubber  Shoe  Co. 
Wentz,  A.  D. — Beacon  Falls  Rubber  Shoe  Co. 
Wetmore,  F.  O.— First  National  Bank. 
Whiffen,  Wilson  T. — Peninsular  Stove  Company. 
Whitaker,  J.  O.— Whitaker  Manufacturing  Co. 
White,  James. 

White,  R.  S.— American  Steel  and  Wire  Co. 
Wickwire,  E.  L.— Hirsh,  Wickwire  &  Co. 
Wight,  A.  M. — Rathbone,  Hair  &  Rigdway  Co. 
Wilbur,  L.  J.— Joseph  Shine. 
Williams,  George  J. 
Wilson,  L.  I.— Wilson  Brothers. 
Wood,  John  H.— Carson,  Pirie,  Scott  &  Co. 
Woodcock,  L.  T.— Marshall  Field  &  Co.,  retail. 
Woodcock,  Judge  J.  M. 
Watt,  James  R. — John  G.  Miller. 
Wilbur,  S.  B.— Trout  Hardware  Company. 
White,  Edward — Great  Central  Market  Magazine. 
White,  P.  T.— Otto  Young  &  Co. 
Wilder,  E.  P.— Wilder  &  Co. 
Wakeman,  F.  S. — Cleveland  Faucet  Co. 
Webb,  George  D.— Conkling,  Price  &  Webb. 
Young,  Edward  C. — Belding  Brothers  &  Co. 
Weaver,  C.  H.— C.  H.  Weaver  &  Co. 
Winslow  ,  W.  H— Winslow  Brothers  Company. 
Wygant,  A. — United  States  Express  Company. 
Wiley,  Fred  L.— Becker,  Mayer  &  Co. 
Wheeler,  H.  A.— Credit  Gearing-House. 
Waldeck,  H. — Continental  National  Bank  Co. 
Winheim,  O.  C— Burley  &  Co. 
Wilk,  F.  L. — Union  Trust  Company. 
Warren,  Frank — Hibbard,  Spencer,  Bartlett  &  Co. 
Whipple,  C.  B.— Hibbard,  Spencer,  Bartlett  &  Co. 
Whitlock,  S.  J.— Belding  Brothers  &  Co. 
Warner,  Ezra  J.— Sprague,  Warner  &  Co. 
Walliser,  H.  F. — E.  L.  Mansure  Company. 
Wiehe,  C.  F.— Edward  Hines  Lumber  Company. 

Courtesy  of  Record  Herald. 

President  Theodore  Roosevelt  says:  "Study  high  ideals;  fol- 
low them."  That  these  words  stripped  of  all  sententious  phrases  and 
brought  to  bare  facts  are  bearing  fruit  here  is  evidenced  in  many 
ways.  As  a  representative  sample  of  the  enterprises  based  upon 
high  ideals  Chicago  society  has  become  interested  in  the  uplifting 


WICKED   CITY  REDEEMED. 


131 


HERE  AND  THERE  ABOUT  THE  STREETS 


A  TYPE  OF  MENDICANT. 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


of  the  stage.  One  of  the  most  magnificent  theaters  in  this  world 
will  be  the  result  —  a  dream  of  art,  a  virtual  paradise,  constructed 
for  absolute  safety.  Upon  the  stage  none  but  the  very  best  com- 
panies will  be  allowed  to  arch  an  instep  or  droop  an  eye-lid.  Any 
company  who  is  favored  with  a  call  to  this  stage  will  forever  wear 
the  badge  of  ability  and  respectability. 

The  idea  is  a  good  one.  Not  only  will  it  be  a  pleasure  and  a 
benefit  to  the  better  class  of  playgoers,  but  it  will  help  to  elevate 
the  entire  theatrical  world.  It  will  be  an  incentive  for  the  players 
to  elevate  themselves  and  their  plays  to  the  high  standard  desired 
by  the  broad-minded  and  generous  public  who  admire  refinement 
as  well  as  pathos;  morality  as  well  as  wit  and  beauty.  The  author 

was  informed  by  Mrs.  S — —  K ,  a  society  lady  of  the  northside, 

that  it  was  rumored  Mrs.  George  B.  Carpenter,  president  of  the 
Woman's  Club,  was  the  originator  of  this  "new  idea"  plan  for  fol- 
lowing high  ideals  in  uplifting  the  stage.  It  is  truly  a  practical  plan 
and  will  undoubtedly  be  a  success  morally,  socially,  and  financially. 
But  no  matter  who  promotes  its  final  success  after  the  thought 
has  been  given  birth,  the  originator  deserves  the  credit  and  much 
praise.  The  enterprise  is  favorably  accepted  by  the  wealthy  public- 
Many  of  our  influential  men  are  interested  in  this  stu- 
pendious  venture.  The  names  of  some  are  given  below.  This  list 
was  handed  to  the  author's  secretary  and  is  believed  to  be  clipped 
from  the  Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

Messrs,  and  Mesdames : 

Edward  S.  Adams- 
Arthur  Aldis. 
J.  Ogden  Armour. 
Edward   E.  Ayer. 
F.  R.  Babcock. 
W.  Vernon  Booth. 
Orville  E.  Babcock. 
Alfred  Baker. 
Hugh  T.  Birch. 
Arthur  Bissell. 
Edward  Blair. 
Watson  Blair. 
Joseph  T.  Bowen- 
A.  A.  Carpenter,  Jr. 
George  A.   Carpenter. 
W.  J.  Chalmers. 
Bruce  Clark. 
J.  L.  Cochran- 
R.  T.  Crane,  Jr. 
H.  P.  Jndson. 
Edson  Keith. 
W.  W-  Keith. 
Garfield  King. 


J.  W.  Kendrick. 

Bryan  Lathrop. 

Dwight  Lawrence. 

Robert  Lovett- 

Honore  Palmer. 

Joseph  M.  Patterson. 

Charles  A.  Plamondon. 

Hobart  C.   Chatfield-Taylor. 

Samuel  Raymond. 

John  S.  Runnells- 

Martin  Ryerson. 

H.  G.  Selfridge. 

A.  A.  Sprague. 

A.  A.  Sprague,  II. 

John  E.  May. 

Mesdames — 
Wilward  Adams- 
W.  W.  Kimball. 

Messrs. — 
Curys  H.  Adams. 
Daniel  H.  Burnham. 
Charles  E.  Fox. 


134 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


R.  E.  Janney. 
Charles  M.  Leland. 
Sidney  C.  Love. 
Frank  Manley. 
Frederick   McLaughlin. 
George  F.  Porter. 
Clive  Runnells- 
Harry  Rubens. 
A.  H.  Weber. 
J.  Griswold  Coleman,  Jr. 
Henry  Dibblee. 
A.  B.  Dick. 
James  H.  Eckels. 
Granger  Farwell. 
Marshall  Field-      . 
John  V.  Farwell,  Jr. 
Stanley  Field. 
Carter  H.  Fitzhugh. 
Albert  Goodrich. 
F.  Herman  Gade. 
Preston  Gibson. 
Edward  Craft  Green- 
William  Holabird. 
Harold  A.  Howard. 
Richard  Howe. 
C.  L.  Hutchinson. 
Augustus  N-  Eddy. 
Hugh  J-  McBirney. 
J.  Medill  McCormick. 
Stanley  McCormick. 


W.  D.  McClintock. 
H.  M-  Mclntosh. 
Franklin  Mac  Veagh- 
Arthur  Meeker. 

A.  B.   Newell. 
Frederic  T.  Norcross. 
William  R.  Odell. 
Herbert  S.  Stone. 

H.  D.  Sturtevant. 

B.  E.  Sunny. 
Francis  Taylor. 
Russell  Tyson. 
George  E.  Vincent. 
Warren  M.   Salisbury. 
Willoughy  Walling. 

B.  M.  Winston. 
Lawrence  Young. 
Emmons  Blaine. 
George  E.  Adams. 
James  Deering. 
William  B.  Hale. 
David  B.  Jones. 
Joseph  Leiter. 
Benjamin  Marshall. 
Robert  T.  McGann. 
Potter  Palmer,  Jr. 
H.  H.  Porter. 
Edwin  Stanley. 
Charles  F.  Wacker. 


WICKED   CITY  REDEEMED.  18fi 

CHILDREN  LEND  AID  TOWARD  MAKING  CHICAGO 
"THE  CITY  BEAUTIFUL." 

Chicago's  crusade  for  beauty  has  found  a  new  phase — it  is 
making  poets  of  the  school  children.  A  few  years  ago,  when  it 
was  quite  the  fad  to  say  unpleasant  things  about  Chicago,  to  talk 
of  its  dirt,  its  noise  and  its  general  ugliness  in  a  kind  of  hopeless 
way,  a  few  of  the  loyal  men  and  women  of  the  city  got  together 
and  decided  that  Chicago  with  its  natural  facilities  for  beauty 
should  be  beautiful.  Municipal  art  leagues  and  committees  were 
formed,  the  Chicago  branch  of  the  National  Outdoor  Art  League 
added  its  efforts,  the  club  women,  ever  responsive  to  these  things, 
joined  hands,  and  year  by  year  their  efforts  have  left  their  imprint- 

The  accumulations  of  many  years  could  not  be  put  aside  in  a 
few  months,  but  they  have  worked  slowly  and  surely,  and  this  year, 
when  Arbor  day  arrived,  it  found  not  only  the  elders  but  the  school 
children  eagerly  awaiting  an  opportunity  'to  add  their  share  toward 
the  general  beautifying  of  the  city.  This  enlistment  of  the  interest 
of  the1  children — the  beginning  at  the  bottom  of  things  with  a  view 
to  future  Chicago  and  its  citizens — is  due  to  the  efforts  of  the  club 
women  who  have  worked  for  some  years  through  the  medium  of 
their  art  committees  in  bringing  new  and  natural  thoughts  of 
beauty  of  surroundings  into  the  school  life  to  the  teachers  who 
have  given  unceasing  efforts  to  aid  the  good  work,  and  to  the  Out- 
door Art  League,  with  its  offspring,  the  Ce.res  Circle,  formed  by 
Miss  Jennie  Maxwell  and  other  West  Side  daughters  of  wealth 
and  leisure  a  few  years  ago. 

CHILDREN  WORK  FOR  BEAUTY. 

Of  all  these  forces  the  Circle,  the  last  and  youngest,  is  most 
local  and  interesting  because  it  was  a  pioneer  in  the  movement  for 
securing  the  active  interest  of  the  school  children.  The  young 
women  of  the  Circle  started  with  the  schools  of  the  West  Side. 
They  secured  a  number  of  printed  pledges,  the  signer  promising  to 
aid  in  the  work  of  the  city  beautiful  by  keeping  loose  papers  and 
refuse  from  the  streets  as  far  as  individual  effort  could  avail.  The 
schools  were  visited,  the  idea  was  explained  to  the  children,  they 
responded  with  enthusiasm,  and  boys  and  girls  alike  set  about  to 
help  in  the  crusade.  The  success  of  the  undertaking  in  the  West 
Side  schools  encouraged  the  young  women  to  spread  their  efforts 
to  the  other  schools  of  the  city,  and  to-day  a  majority  of  the  school 
children  are  enlisted  in  the  city  beautiful  army.  The  climax  of  the 
year  comes  on  Arbor  day,  with  Decoration  day  a  close  second,  and 
the  efforts  of  these  school  children  at  the  recent  Arbor  day  plant- 
ing should  be  of  great  interest  to  every  loyal  Chicagoan. 

Through  the  efforts'  of  the  Chicago  branch  of  the  Outdoor  Art 
League,  of  which  Mrs.  William  Frederick  Grower,  well  known 
in  club  circles,  is  president,  an  order  went  forth  from  the  board  of 


136  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

education  to  the  principals  of  the  public  schools  that  Bird  and  Arbor 
day  should  be  observed  in  every  one  of  the  300  schools  of  the  city. 
Arbor  day  chanced  to  fall  on  Good  Friday,  and  for  this  reason 
the  celebrations  were  scattered  through  a  great  portion  of  a  week. 

ENTHISIASM    OF  A    SCHOOL. 

One  of  the  first  to  respond  was  the  Forrestville  School  at 
Forty-fifth  street  and  St.  Lawrence  avenue.  This  is  one  of  the 
model  schools  of  the  city,  and  both  teachers  and  pupils  find  great 
pride  in  keeping  it  so.  The  walls  are  hung  with  many  reproduc- 
tions of  the  masterpieces  and  several  originals,  including  a'  painting 
by  John  Johanssen,  a  recent  purchase  of  the  children  themselves. 
The  principal,  Miss  Holbrook,  and  her  corps  of  teachers,  are  among 
the  most  enthusiastic  of  the  city  beautiful  workers  and  last  year 
they  made  a  beginning  by  beautifying  the  only  planting  space  avail- 
able— the  girls'  recreation  ground.  The  Outdoor  Art  League  was 
called  upon  for  assistance  and  did  the  first  planting  in  April  of  last 
year,  the  children  furnishing  the  Arbor  day  literary  programme. 

This  year  the  teachers  and  children  furnished  their  own  trees, 
vines  and  programme,  without  assistance.  The  programme  was 
unique.  A  general  idea  of  the  day's  meaning  was  given  the  chil- 
dren of  the  advanced  grades,  with  the  request  that  each  should 
write  a  wish  or  an  essay  or  a  bit  of  poetry  or  prayer  concerning 
the  observances  of  the  day.  The  first  planting  was  done  in  the 
morning  by  the  tiny  folk  from  the  kindergarten,  who  planted  a 
mountain  ash  and  a  bunch  of  lilies  of  the  valley,  singing  an  recit- 
ing their  little  verses  as  the  things  were  put  in  the  ground.  During 
the  afternoon  these  little  ones  appeared  in  pairs,  each  pair  bearing 
a  small  tub  of  water  with  which  they  solemly  watered  their  trees 
and  flowers.  Then  they  arranged  themselves  on  the  stone  coping 
to  watch  the  rest  of  the  programme. 

EXERCISES  ON  ARBOR  DAY. 

In  the  afternoon  1,300  children  marched  from  the  front  entrance 
to  the  girls'  playground,  carrying  flags  and  school  banners  and 
handfuls  of  flowers,  each  one  taking  some  part  in  the  exercises. 
When  the  planting  time  came  the  programme  included  the  burying 
of  a  bottle  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  containing  the  names  of  the 
little  planters  and  their  wishes  for  the  life  of  the  tree.  Four  of 
the  rooms  clubbed  together  and  purchased  a  beautiful  specimen 
of  the  hawthorne  tree. 

The  wishes,  original  with  the  children,  and  the  bits  of  verse 
and  composition  show  what  Chicago  may  expect  from  its  future 
citizens.  Little  Miss  Florence  R.  Myers  wrote: 

MY  WISH. 

May  all  the  people  happy  be, 
Who  helped  to  plant  this  hawthorne  tree. 
I  wish  that  Forrestville  may  grow  in  beauty, 
As  this  tree  doth  grow  in  size. 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  18* 

Edna  Kantrowitz  of  the  same  room  wrote  a  lilting  bit  of  verse 
for  her  wish,  entitling  it  "The  Charm" : 

PICK  UP  WASTE  PAPER. 

While  this  programme  was  being  carried  out  at  the  school  the 
Clean  City  Club,  organized  by  Mrs.  Harriet  Taylor  Treadwell  from 
the  pulpils  of  the  eighth  grade,  of  which  she  is  teacher,  were  busy 
on  the  vacant  lot  at  Forty-fifth  street  and  Cottage  Grove  avenue. 
The  club  members  are  pledged  to  assist  in  the  improvement  of 
conditions  in'  the  neighborhood,  and,  like  the  Ceres  Circle  children, 
pick  up  waste  paper,  from  disfiguring. other  people's  property  as 
well  as  their  own,  and  keep  off  of  lawns. 

Compositions  were  written  with  the  city  beautiful  as  the  topic, 
and  some  of  these  are  worth  publishing  for  the  benefit  of  the  elders. 
Henrietta  Sayre  of  room  1,  grade  S,  writes : 

The  cry  of  the  popular  universe  is  now  the  welcome  of  the 
beautiful  and  the  quest  of  the  sanitary.  We  with  "the  courage 
that  gains  and  the  prudence  that  keeps  what  men  strive  for"  are 
the  ones  who,  taking  up  the  cry,  must  press  onward  to  victory. 
The  little  things  and  daily  unnoticed  acts  of  the  people  are  what 
make  our  streets  dirty  and  the  atmosphere  one  mixed. with  flying 
particles  of  caramel  wrappers  and  old  newspapers.  Garbage,  too, 
is  a  never-ending  source  of  annoyance;  not  through  its  own  fault, 
perhaps,  but  through  the  fault  of  those  who  afterward  grumble 
over  the  high  taxes  and  a  superfluity  of  "cleaning-up  societies." 
Step  by  step,  though,  through  the  effort  of  each  man  and  woman, 
we  are  becoming  the  "city  beautiful"  and  the  "city  clean"  of  the 
western  world,  and  if  some  obstinate  creatures  persist  in  thwarting 
our  enterprise  we  must  not  become  discouraged1,  for  Rome  was 
not  built  in  a  day- 
Comes  an  echo  on  the  breeze, 

Whispering  through  the  dusty  trees, 

And  its  urgent  tones  are  these : 

"Burn  up  papers,  plant  new  trees, 

Put  your  garbage  in  your  cans; 

Force  expectoration  bans ! 

Keep  the  billboard  out  of  sight : 

Shun  the  wrong  and  do  the  right, 

So  our  great  commercial  tree 

Standing  guard^  the  inland  sea. 

May  rejoice  with  you  and  me, 

That  we've  brought  it  up  to  be — 
The  City  Beautiful !" 

TREES  CALL  FORTH  POETRY- 

Two  more  examples'  of  the  result  of  the  "city  beautiful"  teach- 
ings are  found  in  the  "prayer"  by  Lucile  Kline,  which  is  a  little 
gem,  and  Frances  Prendergast's  "Plant  We  a  Tree" .— Journal. 


138 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


The  President  tips  his  hat  to  Chicago  and  says  lofty  ideals  are 
the  proper  thing. 

Names  of  some  of  the  loyal  citizens  who  entertained  the  Presi- 
dent. In  thanking  him  for  the  tribute  to  our  beautiful  city  they 
voiced  the  sentiments  of  a  multitude  of  wage  earners  and  others. 


Charles  H.  Wacker. 

Gov.  Charles  Deneen. 

C  F.  Gunther. 

A.  L.  Baker. 

A.  J.  Earling. 

E,  B.  Butler. 

Col.  Walter  T.  Duggan. 

H.  G.  Selfridge. 

Dr.  Alexander  Lambert. 

Senator  A.  J.  Hopkins. 

L.  A.  Ferguson. 

H.  A.  Strohmeyer. 

Robert  J.  Thorne. 

A.  Cowles. 

Slason  Thompson- 

E.  F.  Carny. 

R.  R.  McCormick. 

C.  H.  Conover. 

Murray  F.  Tuley. 

Frank  B.  Noyes. 

Victor  F.  Lawson. 

Charles  G.  Dawes. 

A.  A.  Sprague  II. 

Judge  Kohlsaat. 

Tames  B.  Forgan. 

J.  J.  Mitchell. 

Frank  H.  Jones. 

Byron  L.  Smith. 

J.  L.  McGrew. 

M.  C.  Latta. 

David  R.  Forgan. 

R.  W-  Patterson. 

Graeme  Stewart. 

Frank  O.  Lowden. 

E.  A.  Hamill. 
Franklin  MacVeagh. 
J.  H.  Eckels. 
Cyrus  McCormick. 
H.  H.  Kohlsaat. 

F.  H.  Tyree. 

E.  A-  Potter. 

J.  G.  Thompson. 

F.  W.  Gerould. 


I.  G.  Elliott. 
A.  D.  Wheeler. 
J.  E.  Monk. 
T.  W.  Robinson. 
Darius  Miller. 
R.  H.  Donnelley. 
W.  C.  Thorne. 
Vernon  Booth. 
H.  Gilette. 
C.  L.  Bartlett. 
J.  V.  Farwell,  Jr. 
William  Loeb. 
Edward  Bancroft- 
Marshall  Field. 
Marvin  Huehitt- 
Walter  H.  Wilson. 
A.  A.  McCormick. 
J.  M.  Dickinson. 
A.  G.  Blair. 
Judge  Sol  H.  Bethea. 
W.  L.  Brown. 
T.  E.  Donnelley. 
H.  P.  Judson. 
Arthur  T.  Aldis- 
C.  H.  FitzHugh. 
Mr.  Sutton. 
John  Maynard  Harlan. 
J.  M.  McCormick. 
R.  Kin?. 

C.  M.  Dawes. 
W.  S.  Warren. 
Delavan  Smith. 

H.  N.  Higinbotham. 

D.  B.  Jones. 
Dr.  G.  Isham. 
F.  C.  Farwell. 

A.  M.  Day. 

J.  G.  Rogers. 
H.  H.  Martin. 

B.  E.  Sunny. 
T.  E.  Mitten. 
Fred.  W.  Upham. 
J.  Blabon. 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


139 


H.  Lloyd. 
Fred  A.  Bangs. 
Rush  C.  Butler. 
Arthur  B.  Cody. 
Albert  E.  Crowley. 

A.  D.  Curtis. 

J.  E.  Defebaugh. 
George  W.  Dixon. 
William  H.  Eagan. 
William   G.   Edens. 
Robert  S.  lies. 
Thomas  D.  Knight. 
E.  C.  Lindley. 
Chauncev  W.  Martyn. 
Georee  W.  Miller- 
Frank  I.  Moulton. 
Edwin  A.  Munger. 
Robert  McMurdy. 
M.  W.  Pinckney. 
James  T.  Plumsted- 
William  J.  Pringle. 
Henry  W.  Price. 
Emil  C.  Wetten. 
R.  T.  Thompson. 
George  Merryweather. 
Marquis  Eaton. 
Emil   C.   Wetten. 
H.  T.  McBirney. 
William  Kent. 
J.  O.  Hinckley. 

B.  A.  Eckhart. 
W.   O.   Coleman. 
J.  F.  Harris. 
Harold  F.  McCormick. 
G.  A.  Carpenter. 

B.  Carpenter. 
Arthur  Dixon. 
Ralph  C.  Otis. 
Joseph  E.  Otis. 
Sol  A.  Smith. 
W.  B.  Smith. 
George  A.  Mason. 
Harry  L.  Prescott. 
Henry  R.   Rathbone- 
John  T.  Richards. 
James  Jay  Sheridan. 
Andrew  R.  Sheriff. 
Mors  O.  Slocum. 


Frederick  A.  Smith. 
Fred.  W.  Upham. 
Roy  O,  West. 
Lloyd  Bowen. 
W.  E.  Clow. 
H.  J.   McFarland. 
G.  B.  Swift. 
Clayton  Mark. 
Col.  E.  G.  Halle. 

E.  C.  Brainerd. 
Laverne  W.  Noyes. 
J.  T.  Harahan. 

W.  A.  Angell. 
R.  W.  Cox. 
J.  C.  Shaffer. 
Roy  O.  West. 
W.  C.  Boyden. 
Samuel  Instill. 
W.  G.  Beale. 
Harry  Rubens. 
Peter  Schuttler. 
R.  Ortmann. 

F.  C.  Bartlett. 
J.  C.  Hutchins. 
W.  J.  Pringle. 
Chauncey  Keep- 
H.  R.  McCullough. 
W.  A.  Fuller. 
Enos  M.  Barton. 

J.  C.  Patterson. 
A.  C.  Anson. 
F.  K.  Copeland. 
Charles  H.  Thome. 
E.  C.  Wetten. 
Thomas  Carey. 
Charles  Werno. 
J.  W.  Eckhart. 
E.  G.  Foreman. 
Julius  Rosenwald. 
Charles  U-  Gordon. 
Theodore  K.  Long. 
Gale  Blocki 
Graeme  Stewart. 
Judge  F.  Q.  Ball. 
Judge  A.  N.  Waterman. 
Judge  O.  H.  Horton. 
Judge  Elbridge  Hanecy. 
Judge  Jesse  Holdom. 


140 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


Dr.  J.  B.  McFatrich. 
Dr.  C.  L.  Barnes. 
W.  F.  Knoch. 
Arnott  Stubblefield. 
Walter  Fieldhouse. 
Harry  V.  Wood. 
Linn  H.  Young. 
James  J.  Healy. 
Oliver  Sollitt. 
E.  D.  Brothers. 
W.  S.  Kies. 
W.  T.  ApMadoc. 
D.  L.  Ettelson. 
Warwick  A.   Shaw. 
.William  L.  Rohrer. 


Arthur  Dixon. 
L.  K.  Torbet. 
B.  W.  Snow- 
Isaac  M.  Hamilton. 
George  Edmund  Foss. 
Martin  B.  Madden. 
W.  W.  Wilson. 
James  R.  Mann. 
LeRoy  T.  Steward. 
F.  E.  Coyne. 
Clare  E-  More. 
Henry  E.  Weaver. 
George  E.  Shipman. 
J.  M.  McConahey. 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  141 


Notice  to  Readers 


If   interested    in   prize    contest  look  for 
the  hidden  words  and  sentences. 

See  Pages  37,  113,  345 


The  prizes  will  be  awarded  promptly 
upon  winners  sending  letter  or  pages  con- 
taining his  or  her  correct  locations  marked 


Names  of  the  prize  winners  will  be 
given  in  Mr.  Stevens'  next  book,  "City 
Beautiful,"  sequel  to  "Wicked  City." 


142  WICKED  CITY. 


-WICKED   CITY 

Continued  From  Page  36 
"As  the  chimes  told  the  hour." 

CHAPTER    IV— Continued. 


WICKED   CITY.  143 

now?"  The  snaky,  shifty  eyes  of  the  other,  which  had  been  weakly 
traveling  in  every  direction  but  that  of  the  speaker,  were  brought 
to  bear  fully  upon  the  eyes  opposite.  They  showed  interest,  but 
not  recognition.  "No,  but  dem  lamps  of  yourn  seems  kinder  like 
I'd  seed  em  afore,  but  I  don't  twig  yer."  The  other  sat  back  in  his 
chair  with  a  quiet  smile  of  satisfaction  on  his  Spanish  countenance, 
fingering  his  glass  thoughtfully,  while  his  companion  watched'  him 
with  a  puzzled  look  on  his  cunning,  crafty  features.  "Well,  it  is  best 
so.  I  was  here  with  a  friend  of  yours  once,  and  I  thought  you  might 
remember  me,  but  as  you  don't  it  doesn't  matter.  I  am  from  your 
friend  'Butch.' "  His  listener  stirred  uneasily.  "Ye  know  me,  then?" 
"Yes,  I  know  you  and  the  criminal  record  you  left  behind  you  in 
the  States,  from  the  guy  you  croaked  on  the  'levee'  in  Chicago, 
to  the  'clock  job'  you  done  here."  As  he  finished  his  companion 
was  pale  to  the  lips.  "Who,  who — "  "Who  told  me  this?"  you  would 
say.  "Why — my  friend, — "  As  he  spoke  he  leaned  over  the  table  and 
whispered  a  name  in  his  trembling  listener's  ears.  As  he  did  so, 
a  relieved  expression  overspread  his  features.  Rising,  he  extended 
his  hand.  "Give  us  yer  mit,  'pal';  if  he  spieled  to  yer  about  me  and 
de  ticker,  you'se  are  of  the  right  sort,  for  he  knows  his  man,  he  does. 
Yer  lamps  are  dead  ringers  for  hissen.  I  did  spiel  to  meself  onc't 
'at  dere  werent  a  guy  in  the  world  with  a  pair  like  'em.  Where  is 
he?  It's  been  about  a  pair  o'  years  since  I  done  biz  for  him.  He  is 
de  right  sort,  and  would  never  give  a  pal  away.  I  would  walk  out 
and  give  him  me  joint  if  he  wants  it."  "Yes,  I  guess  you  would  have 
to  if  he  said  so,"  replied  number  "49."  "He  don't  want  your  joint,  but 
he  does  want  what  coin  you  got  in  the  till,  and  all  the  long  green  stuft 
you  got  in  your  leather,  so  dig  up.  Come,  hurry  about  it."  "Yes, 
but  where  is  he?  You  ain't  tipped  his  cover  yet."  "No,  nor  am  I 
going  to,  either.  He  is  near  by,  and  if  you  don't  want  to  stake 
him  to  the  coin  you  got,  I  will  see  that  he  takes  you  at  your  word 
of  a  few  moments  ago,  and  make  you  stake  him  to  the  whole  thing, 
'booze,  grafters'  and  all — so  dig  up."  "Well,  I  ain't  got  much  wid 
me,  but  he  is  welcome  to  wot  1  got."  As  he  spoke  he  drew  a  long 
leather  book  from  his  inside  vest  pocket,  and  extracted  a  ten  and  five 
pound  note.  Handing  these  over,  he  then  made  for  the  outer  room, 
stopping  behind  the  bar  he  touched  the  "no  sale"  button  on  a  heavy 
register,  and  securing  the  contents  returned  to  the  room  they  had 
left.  Counting  this  out  on  the  table  he  shoved  it  towards  number 
"49"  with  a  look  and  action  as  much  as  to  say,  "Well,  you  see  I  am 
a  good  fellow,  anyway.  Let's  see — fifteen  pounds,  and  this  is  four 
pounds  lacking  a  shilling — about  nineteen  pounds."  "It  is  not  enough 

SDU  will  have  to  frisk  that  'leather'  again."  "Wot  yer  given  us? 
idn't  you  see  me  give  yer  all  the  coin  in  de  joint?  Wot  er  youst 
looking  for,  anyway?"  "Well  I  am  looking  for  some  more  of  that 
green  stuff  you  have  planted  in  that  leather."  With  a  long  face  and 
sullen  air  he  brought  the  book  to  light  and  handed  it  to  number 
"49,"  who,  inserting  his  fingers  in  the  different  compartments,  found 
one  50-pound  note  and  two  twenty  dollar  bills  in  American  money. 
"Ah,  this  is  the  real  thing,  as  fine  as  split  silk  and  twice  as  good. 


144  WICKED  CITY. 

I  thought  you  was  holding  out  on  me.  You  ain't  under  cover 
with  'any  more,  are  you?"  "No,  and  that  coin  dere  ain't  mine  either. 
But  long  as  it  reaches  me  friend,  and  'e  gets  de  good  of  it  I  ain't  a 
kickin;  but  it's  on  the  dead,  'pal,'  that  last  coin  was  left  me  by  a 
'flash  cove'  wot  I  know."  "Well,  just  tell  him  to  take  it  out  in 
'booze.'  for  he  will  never  get  another  flash  at  this."  As  he  spoke  he 
withheld  the  money  and  passed  the  ,book  back  to  its  owner.  "I  will 
stake  you  to  that,  and  when  you  get  it  full  again  I  will  come  around 
and  see  you :  meantime,  ydur  friend  says  that  you  should  not  by  any 
means  lose  the  clock,  so  good~-by,  I  am  off."  "Well,  I  see  you  are 
dead  next  to  me  friend's  'biz,'  so  we'll  drink  'is  health.  Here  is  your 
glass."  Taking  the  proffered  glass  in  his  hand  number  "49"  looked  at 
it  thoughtfully  for  a  moment  and  replaced  it  upon  the  table  saying, 
"No,  'pal,'  I  will  not  take  any  chances  on  you — by  the  way,  that 
makes  me  think.  Trot  out  there  and  bring  me  a  small  portion  of  the 
knock-out  drops  you  carry,  your  friend  might  need  them."  "Cer- 
tainly 'pal,'  I  will  cut  anything  in  two  wit  'im  I've  got — eyen  my 
interest  in  heaven."  "Well,  your  interest  and  his,  too,  in  that 
region  wovld  not  be  very  great,  so  dodge  along  there  and  get  what 
I  want;  I  must  blow  out  of  here  at  once."  "Wot's  yer  hurry?" 
"Well,  your  friend  may  get  tired  waiting  for  me.  As  he  spoke 
that  satirical  smile  was  to  be  seen  a  moment  only,  for  when 
"Butch"  returned  with  the  sleeping  potion  which  they  termed 
"knock-out  drops,"  his  face  was  as  unreadable  and  impassive  as 
ever.  He  was  a  clever  actor  and  not  once  did  the  keeper  suspect  that 
his  mysteriou^  customer  was  the  friend  spoken  of.  "Thanks;  now 
then  if  you  will  get  behind  the  bar  and  look  your  prettiest,  I  will 
loosen  up  a  little  and  buy  a  drink  for  the  house."  Passing  into  the 
outer  room  the  same  motley  crowd  of  poor  humanity  was  to  be 
seen — immorality  and  weakness  on  most  every  face,  unless  it  was  a 
"live"  one,  as  they  termed  a  greenhorn  who  was  r^ady  to  be  jollied 
into  spending  his  money  for  drinks  and  other  favors.  "Happy  Sal" 
had  one  of  this  latter  class  in  tow,  and  was  in  her  element,  a  cigar- 
ette between  her  teeth  and  the  rest  of  the  pack  on  the  table 
alongside  a  glass  of  'alf  and  'alf,  which  she  occasionally  sipped,, 
removing  the  cigarette  to  do  so,  then  blowing  through  her  nostrils 
the  smoke  she  inhaled,_  adding  nail  after  nail  to  the  coffin  that  was 
soon  to  hold  her  dissipated  remains.  Throwing  a  handful  of 
coins  on  the  bar,  he  invited  them  to  drink.  There  was  a  rush. 
"Happy  Sal"  in  the  lead,  pulling  her  companion  along  with  her, 
fearful  she  might  lose  him,  probably  without  the  chance  of  replac- 
ing him  with  one  of  his  like  upon  such  a  rainy  night.  Watching  this 
sickening  _sight  of  greediness  for  a  moment,  he  threw  another  hand- 
ful of  coins  over  the  bar  and  made  his  way  out.  As  he  trudged 
along  on  his  way  back  to  the  strand  he  muttered — "Well,  if  he  did 
not  recognize  me  no  one  would ;  the  test  satisfies  me.  I  will  have  to  go 
back  ?.nd  get  that  clock_if  he  has  not  blowed  it  before  this.  T  wonder 
how  the  Governor  is  enjoying  the  narrative  of  my  life  and  the  crimes. 
Crimes?  Why,  I  never  committed  any,  unless  it  was  a  crime  to 
get  'Butch'  to  swipe  that  mysterious  clock  from  Gordon's  lawyers, 


WICKED   CITY.  145 

every  person,  whether  he  be  a  plebian  or  prince,  has  a  right  to  his 
own  opinion.  Maybe  others  would  call  it  a  crime  to  kill  the  shark 
that  ruined  me,  but  I  don't.  I  would  do  it  over  again  under  the 
same  circumstances,  and  as  for  hitting  that  poor  Jehu  a  rap  over 
the  head,  I  hated  to  do  it,  but  it  was  a  case  where  I  had  no 
choice — and,  by  the  way,  I  must  make  another  call  and  blow  these 
togs.  Dorris  shall  never  know  of  my  imprisonment  until  the  clock 
ticks  off  ihe  mystery  it  holds,  and  every  chance  of  winning  her 
love  has  flown.  Then,  and  only  then,  would  I  welcome  crime  as  a 
refuge  to  drown  my  sorrows  and  eke 'out  my  revenge  on  .the  critical 
world."  Thus  excusing  his  faults  to  himself,  and  mentally  figuring 
on  the  fickle  future  and  the  possibilities  it  held  for  him,  he  hurried 
along,  still  retaining  that  artificial  stoop  of  his  generally  upright 
and  military  figure,  his  disguise  was  good,  but  would  they  recognize 
the  storm  clothes  he  wore  as  belonging  to  the  cabman?  No,  he  had 
calculated  on  that  as  he  walked  down  the  strand  where  he  had  passed 
hundreds  similar  to  the  one  he  wore.  Feeling  safe  from  recognition, 
he  slackened  his  pace  and  cast  his  eye  about  for  a  cafe.  While 
enjoying  a  hasty  lunch,  he  overheard  a  conversation  between  a  man 
sitting  at  the  counter  on  one  of  the  high  stools  and  another  that  had 
just  entered.  "Hoi,  Baker,  'ow's  tricks.  Well,  oie  caught  a  couple 
of  rainy  weather  floats  at  a  good  fare.  'Aye  youse  'card  the  news? 
No?  Wot's  off?  Wots  off  you  soi?  Well,  it's  prisoner  number 
"49"  wots  off,  and  the  governor  is  clear  off  'is  'ead.  Fatty  just  took 
'im  over  to  Scotland  Yards,  and  'e  'ad  a  roll  of  paper  wot  'e  called  a 
confession,  telling  about  it.  Oh,  'es  away  off  'is  'ead,  the  Governor 
is."  Paying  his  score  and  leaving  them  to  pick  this  bit  of  news  to 
pieces,  he  quietly  dropped  into  the  street  and  pursued  his  way  with 
that  same  cynical  smile  playing  around  his  lips.  The  Governor  is 
off  'is  'ead  ,is  he — I  thought  he  would  be  when  he  read  that  star 
effort  of  mine.  I  have  tried  my  hand  at  most  everything,  but 
never  have  I  tested  my  ability  in  a  literary  way.  Sometime  I  will 
try  my  metal.  I  want  a  taste  of  everything  this  life  offers.  " 
wanted  a  taste  of  prison  life — well,  I  got  it — more  than  a  taste,  I 
am  thinking;  almost  a  mouthful.  No  more  treadmills  or  cranks 
for  me."  Still  musing,  he  found  himself  at  the  entrance  to  the  under- 
ground ;  here  he  met  two  "Scotland  Yard  men"  coming  up.  As  he 
passed  them  he  caught  the  words,  "'Tis  a  ten  to  one  shot  'e  don't 
get  hout  of  London."  "Talking  about  me  I  guess.  Well,  I  will  give 
them  better  odds  the  other  way — a  hundred  to  one  that  I  do."  Reach- 
ing his  destination  he  made  his  way  to  the  street  and  discovered  that 
the  rain  had  almost  ceased.  Glancing  at  the  unfortunate  cabby's 
watch,  he  found  that  it  was  8  :15.  Striking  off  at  a  brisk  walk  under 
the  dripping  trees  lhat  lined  the  footpath,  he  halted  in  front  of  an  , 
imposing  edifice,  set  far  back  and  surrounded  by  a  beautiful  yard, 
full  of  nature's  growth,  assisted  by  artificial  designs  of  art  in  the 
way  of  flowery  pathways  and  fountains,  which  sent  their  sprays 
heavenward  to  mingle  with  the  slowly  falling  raindrops.  Contem- 
plating this  scene  a  moment,  he  turned  into  the  grounds,  so  gener- 
ously open  to  the  wayfarer  or  visitor,  and  made  his  way  toward  the 


146  WICKED    CITY. 

house  and  up  the  marble  steps  toward  two  monstrous  weather 
beaten  statues  of  the  knights  of  old,  which  had  stood  for  centuries 
guarding  the  massive  doors.  "I  see  by  the  papers  that  Gordon  is 
away,  and  old  Giles  is  probably  asleep,  so  I  will  enter  by  my  key  if 
it  is  still  in  its  old  hiding  place,  and  not  eaten  up  by  rust  for  want 
of  use.  Stooping  and  removing  a  small  fragment  of  slab  that  formed 
the  base  of  the  statue  on  the  right,  he  inserted  his  arm  up  to  the 
elbow,  and  brought  forth  a  rusty  key.  Replacing  the  piece  of  slab, 
he  carefully  inserted  the  key  in  the  lock  and  entered — a  dim  light 
burned  in  the  magnificent  hall.  Listening  intently  he  mounted  the 
stairs  and  passed  into  a  handsome  suite  of  apartments.  "Yes,  these 
are  Gordon's  old  rooms.  Now  then  for  the  wardrobe,  and  we  will 
see  if  I  am  in  luck  again.  I  am.  He  has  left  many  of  his 
clothes  behind,  shoes  and  all.  Guess  he  thinks  he  has  a  cinch  on 
coming  back  and  taking  possession  this  fall.  Well,  we  will  see.  He 
always  was  a  good  dresser,  and  as  we  are  about  the  same  build  I 
think  I  can  get  a  fit."  He  hastily  attired  himself  from  head  to  foot, 
crossing  to  a  handsome  full  length  mirror  that  met  the  ceiling,  beau- 
tifully carved  in  gold  leaf  border.  He  turned  in  all  directions  and 
surveyed  himself  critically.  "I  don't  like  that  tie  very  well,  but 
it  was  always  his  favorite  color  and  style."  Noticing  an  old  traveling 
case  he  threw  some  extra  linen  in  it  with  a  few  more  handkerchiefs 
and  ties.  Slipping  out  into  the  hall  and  cautiously  down  the 
thickly  carpeted  stairs  he  was  just  about  to  let  his  hand  fall  on 
the  door  knob  when  it  fell  to  ^his  side  instead ;  and  there  was  an 
expression  of  surprise  upon  his  face  and  a  whispered  curse  bub- 
bled from  his  clinched  lips. 

The  silence  was  broken  by  the  chimes  of  a  clock.  Led  by  the 
sound,  he  crept  forward  and  entered  a  beautiful  library  upon  the 
left.  True  to  his  conjectures,  he  found  the  mysterious  clock  (sup- 
posed to  be  in  the  keeping  of  the  repulsive  "Butch").  As  it  ceased 
telling  the  hour,  he  speedily  unloaded  a  portion  of  the  articles  from 
the  large  suit-case  and  replaced  them  by  the  clock,  which  bulged 
the  sides  somewhat  and  proved  quite  heavy  as  he  slipped  out  of  the 
door  and  down  the  marble  steps.  Butch  had  proved  a  false  guardian, 
but  chance  had  placed  the  clock  in  his  possession  without  further 
trouble.  A  gleam  of  satisfaction  lit  up  his  face  as  he  elatedly  fol- 
lowed his  habit  of  communing  to  himself. 

"Now  for  the  new  world  where  I  can  work  out  my  destinies 
until  this  wonderful  piece  of  mechanism  gives  up  the  secret  the  old 
gentleman's  most  peculiar  will  claims  it  holds.  At  times  I  almost 
doubt  the  existence  of  anything  of  the  kind,  and  I  hardly  believe 
Gordon  places  any  great  confidence  in  it,  for  if  he  did,  he  would 
not  leave  it  with  a  deaf  old  man  as  its  only  protector.  Well,  the 
time  is  drawing  near  when  we  shall  know  all.  If  I  had  anything 
to  leave  to  my  heirs,  I  wouldn't  tie  it  up  for  three  or  four  years  in 
an  old  clock.  '  By  jove,  it  is  getting  heavy." 

Hurrying  along,  he  reached  the  path  under  the  trees  in  the 
highway  and  soon  found  himself  nearing  the  business  portion  of  the 


WICKED   CITY.  147 

city.     At  Great   Ormand  street    he  hailed  a  passing  two-wheeler 

for  Euston  Station.  As  he  leisurely  walked  into  the  waiting  room, 
it  would  be  hard  to  recognize  in  this  cool,  calm,  well-dressed, 
Spanish-looking  gentleman,  number  "49,"  the  convict  for  whom 
a  large  reward  had  already  been  posted,  making  a  stronger  incen- 
tive for  the  already  zealous  officers  of  the  law,  who  were  watching 
every  means  of  exist  from  London.  Selecting  a  good  cigar  at  the 
stand  he  proceeded  to  enjoy  it  while  watching  the  hurrying 
throngs  collect  for  the  outgoing  train;  among  them  were  many 
detectives  who  scanned  the  face  of  every  new  arrival  as  they 
were  dropped  by  a  cab  or  appearing  from  out  the  gloom  on  foot. 
The  poor  and  rich  alike  made  for  one  point — jostling  one 
another,  although  twenty  minutes  before  the  train  was  sched- 
uled to  leave.  Killing  the  time  as  best  he  could  over  a 
bottle  of  ale  and  some  shrimp,  h_  then  selected  a  hand- 
ful of  cigars  to  smoke  on  the  journey.  Seeing  that  the  old  case 
and  its  precious  contents  were  safely  aboard,  finished  up  with  a 
stroll  about  the  platform.  More  than  twenty  pairs  of  keen  eyes 
belonging  to  the  London  sleuth  inspected  him  closely,  but  failed 
to  see  anything  that  would  warrant  even  the  merest  suspicion  that 
he  was  other  than  what  he  seemed — the  quiet,  polished  gentleman 
of  leisure,  or  a  traveling  man  who  represented  some  wealthy  firm 
or  wholesale  dealer.  Little  knots  of  men  were  discussing  the  latest 
news  and  one  was  referring  to  a  placard  which  described  the  escaped 
convict  in  every  detail  as  the  prison  authorities  knew  them,  offering 
five  hundred  pounds  for  his  capture. 

Boarding  the  train,  ha  quietly  perused  a  paper  while  rolling  on 
to  freedom.  Although  careless  of  the  past,  he  was  wide-awake 
to  the  future.  Arriving  at  the  steamer  without  mishap,  he  deposited 
the  clock  on  the  table  of  his  stateroom  and  set  it  in  motion  after 
noting  the  time  lost,  then  went  below  where  he  was  soon  deeply 
interested  in  a  hand  at  poker,  and  passed  the  time  in  this  way  and 
divers  others  until  New  York  was  sighted  after  six  days  of 
churning  through  the  green  billows.  He  was  cool  and  keen  in 
every  sense,  active  and  on  the  alert  as  they  steamed  up  the  harbor, 
guarded  by  the  ever  diligent  goddess  of  liberty,  who  cast  shim- 
mers of  light  over  sea  and  vessel.  At  the  dock  off  Clarkson 
street,  the  "Umbria"  unloaded  her  human  freight,  bound  for 
so  many  different  destinations :  some  had  friends  who  gathered 
around  and  bade  them  welcome,  hurrving  them  away  in  comfortable 
carriages  to  a  more  comfortable  homes,  while  there  were  others 
unceremoniously  hustled  down  the  gangway  to  be  swallowed  up 
in  the  great  city  without  the  price  of  a  night's  lodging  or  meal 
to  begin  the  battle  of  existence  in  a  new  land.  Some  were  met 
by  officers  in  blue  who  eave  them  a  warmer  weW^ie  than  they 
desired  a  welcome  they  had  feared,  but  tried  to  avoid,  a  welcome 
that  landed  them  in  the  tombs.  Number  "49"  did  not  conternolate 
,\  reception  of  either  kind,  and  was  rierht  in  his  surmise  for  ne 
passed  down  the  gangway  among  the  last  that  were  off  without 


148  WICKED   CITY. 

adventure.  Many  New  York  and  Chicago  detectives  thronged  the 
warf  but  after  a  sharp  glance,  they  paid  little  attention  to  him. 
Accepting  one  of  the  many  vehicles  offered,  he  was  driven  to  a 
hotel  on  Broadway  near  Trinity  Place.  A  day  in  New  York, 
a  visit  to  a  few  places  of  interest  and  he  was  off  for  a  wicked  city, 
the  center  to  which  every  class  of  humanity  in  the  world  gravi- 
tates— the  evil  and  the  good,  the  rich  and  the  poor,  the  great  and 
the  lowly.  The  moment  he  struck  the  streets  of  Chicago,  he  de- 
cided that  it  was  at  least  a  wide-awake  city.  The  activity  and  alert- 
ness shown  by  the  commonest  pedestrian  convinced  him  of  the  fact. 

Locating  a  desirable  hotel  with  club  rooms  attached,  he  found 
himself  among  a  fashionable  set,  enjoying  the  games  while  others 
were  refreshing  themselves  at  the  bar  which  was  a  handsome 
affair  behind  which  was  a  dispenser  of  the  beverages  who  was  in 
keeping  with  it  and  the  other  surroundings.  He  ordered  a  glass 
of  wine  which  was  served  with  such  rapidity,  deftness  and  clean- 
liness that  it  really  made  the  drink  seem  more  pleasing  to  the 
taste.  While  slowly  sipping  this,  he  took  in  with  a  critical  eye 
every  detail  of  his  surroundings,  even  to  the  pictures  that  adorned 
the  walls.  The  dispenser  apparently  was  very  popular  with  the 
patrons  of  the  place  who  seemed  to  be  well  bred,  well  to  do,  clever 
men  of  the  world.  Inviting  the  dispenser  to  join  him  in  a  drink, 
they  were  soon  in  conversation  which  led  to  the  question  of  gambling, 
and  Chicago's  reputation  for  wickedness  in  general,  a  reputation  that 
has  reached  all  corners  of  the  globe  whether  merited  or  not 

"You  say  there  is  a  law  against  gambling  here?"  "Yes,  there 
is  a  law  and  it  is  pretty  well  enforced  too.  The  Inspector  and 
his  _  men  are  very  vigilant,  but  still  it  is  impossible  to  suppress  it 
entirely  for  there  are  gambling  houses  running  in  this  city.  Do 
you  indulge  at  all  in  that  kind  of  diversion?" 

"Oh,  yes,  I  sometimes  do." 

"Well,  you  seem  to  be  a  stranger  in  Chicago,  so  I  will  put  you 
nexit  to  a  few  of  them  and  their  locations,  but  you  will  find  it  hard 
to  gain  admittance  for  some  are  without  protection." 

"Without  protection?  I  hardly  understand  the  meaning  of  the 
word  as  you  have  applied  it.  Oh,  on  a  second  thought,  I  believe 
I  follow  you.  You  mean  that  there  are  some  favored  few  who 
have  some  influence  or  'pull'  as  you  Americans  term  it,  with 
the  police  and  are  allowed  to  run  wide  open  without  fear  of  inter- 
ruption or  arrest.  Is  that  not  it?" 

"Well,  you  have  a  plain  way  of  putting  it,  but  that  is  what 
some  or  in  fact  the  majority  believe  it  to  be,  but  if  you  should  do 
me  the  honor  by  asking  my  opinion  in  regard  to  this  'protection' 
business,  they  all  take — just  excuse  me  a  moment,  here  comes  Mr. 

one  of  the  proprietors  and  a  good  fellow  too.  -  He  is 

a  boy  that  can  tell  you  more  about  gambling  in  Chicago  than  I. 
can."  Smoking  and  drinking,  the  talkative  keeper  continued  the 
conversation  where  they  left  off.  "We  were  speaking  about  gamb- 
ling in  Chicago  as  you  came  in,  Mr. and  I  was  just  remark- 


WICKED   CITY.  149 

ing  to  this  gentleman,  Mr. ah !  yes,  thank  you,  Mr.  Robert  Long, 

that  this  "protection"  the  gamblers  are  supposed  to  have  is  a  myth. 
I  do  not  believe  that  the  police  give  any  of  them  absolute  protection 
from  arrest  while  carrying  on  their  business.  Don't  you  think  that 
they  give  their  players  to  understand  that  they  have  protection  from 
arrest  in  order  to  give  them  confidence,  allay  their  fears  and  hold 
their  game?" 

"Well,  that  is  a  question  that  is  many  times  asked  and  as 
many  times  given  up,  Fred,  the  same  as  I  will  have  to  give  it  up  this 
time.  There  is  one  thing  that  I  do  know,  that  the  club  room  we 
furnish  for  our  guests  to  sling  the  pasteboards  around  in,  is  never 
molested,  and  I  am  sure  that  the  Inspector  and  his  representatives 
have  never  handled  any  of  our  money  in  exchange  for  what  you 
call  "protection."  I  think  the  keeper  of  a  house  where  you 
have  to  cater  to  the  public  as  you  do  in  the  hotel  business,  should 
be  entitled  to  devote  a  portion  of  his  hostelry  for  the  diversion  of 
his  guests.  Would  that  not  be  your  opinion,  Mr.  Long?" 

"Yes,  that  is  my  opinion  exactly.  I  surmise  then  that  you 
sometimes  indulge  in  the  national  game  under  your  own  roof?" 

"Well,  yes,  I  quite  often  take  a  hand,  but  only  with  the 
guests.  No  outsiders  are  allowed  in  the  room  set  aside  for  that 
purpose.  Most  of  my  guests  are  speculators  and  Board  of 
Trade  men.  The  transients  are  mostly  the  better  class  of  travel- 
ing men  or  couples  visiting  Chicago  on  their  honeymoon.  We 
have  some  very  nice  guests  that  are  stopping  permanently  with 

us.  Such  as  Mrs.  also  Senator  D's  widow  and  Prince 

and  his  charming  American  wife,  and  others.  By  the  way, 

you  will  excuse  me,  I  am  expected  to  escort  a  lady  to  the  opera  and 
it  would  hardly  do  to  be  tardy.  You  will  find  Fred  a  sociable  fellow 
and  I  will  leave  you  to  his  tender  mercies.  If  conversation  and  drinks 
rim  out,  get  him  to  tell  you  some  of  his  experiences  in  wicked 
Chicago."  Warmly  shaking  hands,  he  passed  rapidly  out  to  keep 
his  engagement. 

After  listening  to  many  tales  of  Chicago  by  the  keeper,  Robert 
made  some  other  inquiries  regarding  the  hotel  and  being  well 
impressed  determined  to  make  it  his  future  headquarters.  He  there- 
fore, registered  and  was  shown  his  apartments.  His  precious 
burden,  the  clock  that  had  ticked  its  way  across  the  ocean  was  his 
first  care.  From  the  window  of  his  sitting  room  he  noted  Chicago 
time  by  a  large  clock  in  the  tower  of  a  beautiful  structure  oppo- 
site. Soon  the  mysterious  clock  from  London  was  striking  the 
hour  on  a  Cathedral  chime  which  was  modulated  to  such  a 
fine  _  degree  as  to  sound  like  the  sweet  notes  of  far  away  music. 
As  it  ceased  and  the  last  chime  vibrated  on  the  air  and  gradually 
died  away,  a  clear  toned  bell  tolled  the  day  of  the  month, 
while  the  minatnre  fieaires  of  a  bridal  party  passed  from  a  min- 
ature  castle  on  the  rigrht  aloner  a  little  rustic  pathway  and  entered 
a  miniature  representation  of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral?  As  the  last 
figure  disappeared,  soothing  strains  of  music  could  be  heard  last- 
ing fully  a  minute.  So  it  ticked  on  all  unconscious  of  the  great 


150  WICKED   CITY. 

part  it  was  to  play  in  many  lives.  After  a  good  rest  which 
refreshed  body  and  mind,  Robert  Long  paid  his  respects  to  his 
acquaintances  of  the  evening,  after  which  he  hunted  out  Chicago's 
most  stylish  tailoring  establishment.  Here  he  left  his  order  and 
the  following  day  found  him  attired  with  clothes  that  fit  his  well 
proportioned  figure  to  perfection.  During  the  intervening  time 
he  replenished  his  scanty  wardrobe  with  other  necessary  arti- 
cles of  wear,  and  stepped  out  into  the  thoroughfare,  once  more  in 
appearance  similar  to  his  former  self  before  his  prison  experience, 
but  with  a  heart  more  steeled  and  hardened  toward  the  finer  feel- 
ings which  prevailed  in  his  younger  days.  As  is  was,  he  passed 
for  what  he  seemed  to  be,  a  well  dressed,  well  bred  gentleman 
of  means,  unassuming  and  reticent,  cool  and  collected.  But  this 
exterior  hid  a  smouldering  volcano  of  fire  and  passion  which  if 
led  to  the  surface  by  the  chance  hand  of  fate,  would  scorch  and 
wither  unblemished  lives  as  ruthlessly  as  a  prairie  conflagration 
licks  up  tender  grass  along  its  pathway. 

"Now  I  guess  my  'front'  is  good  enough  and  I  will  look  up 
Dorris — bless  her  image.  She  is  the  only  thing*  on  this  earth 
worth  a  thought.  I  wonder  if  she  has  changed  any?  I  know 
I  have.  I  wonder  if  she  will  notice  it?  It  don't  seem  possible 
that  I  am  the  same  being  that  I  was  when  I  first  knew  her.  Why 
I  would  not  even  have  taken  the  name  of  the  Lord  in  vain.  But  now, 
there  does  not  seem  to  be  any  thought  in  my  mind  that  there  is 
a  God,  except  when  I  think  of  her  sweet  face,  and  as  it  is  a  face 
of  a  goddess,  it  naturally  makes  me  think  of  the  possibility  of  a 
God  somewhere  or  somehow  in  connection  with  her.  If  I  win 
her  love  I  might  accept  God.  It  is  possible  that  she  is  married 
after  all,  but  if  so,  it  could  be  onlv  lately  for  the  directory  gives 
their  names  as  'Mrs.  Waite  and  Miss  Waite,  Sunnyside.'  I  will 
quickly  settle  all  doubts." 

He  was  soon  speeding  toward  his  destination  as  stated  in 
Chapter  I.  No.  "49"  purchases  a  Chicago  paper  and  while  scan- 
ning its  columns  is  somewhat  surprised  to  discover  the  following 
notice  among  the  personals : 

"Any  person  knowing  the  present  address  of  Robert  E.  Long, 

who  left  his  home,  2112 St.,  London,  England,  about  three  years 

ago  to  visit  Paris  and  last  heard  of  there,  will  receive  $2,000  re- 
ward. Communicate  with  Gordon  Long,  Palmer  House,  Chicago, 
Illinois." 


WICKED   CITY.  161 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  BROTHERS  MEET. 

"Two  thousand  dollars,  eh?  Well  I  will  just  postpone  this 
visit  and  take  that  two  thousand  dollars  myself.  It's  a  bright 
idea,  I  will  do  it."  Leaving  the  train  at  the  next  stop,  he  returned 
to  the  city's  center.  In  a  second  hand  store  on  the  "levee"  he 
purchased  an  old  suit  of  clothes  and  returned  to  the  hotel.  Affect- 
ing a  slight  stoop  and  halting  step,  he  presented  himself  before 
one  of  the  porters  of  the  Palmer  House  and  notified  him  in  slum 
dialect  to  tell  Mr.  Long  "dat  dere  is  a  guy  out  in.  front  wot  wants 
to  see  'im."  Pressing  back  against  the  building  in  the  shadows 
cast  by  the  great  pillars,  he  watched  and  waited  for  the  appearance 
of  his  brother,  his  body  in  repose,  but  his  mind  working  and  active, 
wide-awake  to  possibilities  and  the  chances  he  was  taking  of  being 
recognized.  Soon  a  tall,  well-built  man  appeared  and  advanced 
with  a  quick,  rapid  step,  looking  in  every  direction  with  eyes  eager 
and  piercing  in  a  way  similar  to  Robert's  own. 

Discerning  the  dark  figure  in  the  shadow  he  inquired :  "Did 
you  wish  to  speak  with  me,  my  man?"  His  voice  was  eager  but 
kind  and  musical. 

"Be  yuse  de  gent  wot  advertised  in  de  paper  to-day?" 

"Yes,  I  am  the  party;  can  you  give  me  the  information  I  wish?" 

"Well,  dat  wos  wot  I  came  'ere  to  do  if  yuse  was  on  de  square 
and  means  wot  you  say  in  de  paper.  I  wants  de  money,  cash  down, 
or  I  don't  turn  a  wheel,  and  a  rig  is  wot  we  need." 

"Very  well,  you  shall  have  it.  Engage  a  hack  while  I  step  into 
the  hotel  to  replenish  my  purse  for  I  seldom  carry  that  amount 
with  me." 

He  soon  reappeared  with  a  light  spring  overcoat  buttoned  over 
the  $2,000  added  to  the  usual  amount  carried.  A  close  inspection 
would  also  show  that  it  was  buttoned  over  something  else,  a  light 
pocket  revolver.  He  seemed  to  be  no  fool,  this  pleasant-faced  man, 
for  he  had  prepared  himself  for  emergencies.  Stepping  into  the 
hack,  they  were  bowled  along,  but  not  towards  Robert's  hotel.  For 
while  Gordon  was  absent,  Robert  had  ample  time  to  press  an  extra 
fare  into  the  cabman's  hand  with  instructions  to  drive  around  the 
city  in  any  direction  he  _  wished  until  just  after  the  tower  clock 
struck  the  hour,  then  drive  to  the  hotel.  Following  out  these  in- 
structions, the  vehicle  at  last  drew  up  in  the  shadow  near  their 
destination.  Gordon  stepped  out  followed  by  Robert  who  pulled  the 
slouch  hat  he  wore  more  firmly,  over  his  face,  hiding  his  eyes  as 
they  struck  the  glare  of  light.  They  soon  found  themselves  before 


152  WICKED   CITY. 

the  door  of  Robert's  apartments.  Unlocking  this,  Robert  tiptoed 
lightly  into  a  dim  room  with  pretended  caution,  as  though  in  fear 
of  disturbing  a  sleeper.  He  had  acted  his  part  well,  his  brother  not 
once  suspected  the  ruse. 

"Now  den,  boss,  jes  give  me  de  money  an  I  will  send  Robert 
Long  to  yuse.  See?" 

"Yes,  I  see.  Here  is  your  money  as  I  agreed.  Now  send  him 
out,  but  if  you  play  me  false,  I — " 

"Sh — ,  not  so  loud,"  his  guide  cautioned  with  a  peculiar  look 
in  his  more  peculiar  eyes.  "I  knows  me  business,  I  does." 

Tiptoeing  to  an  inner  door  he  cautiously  opened  it  and  passed 
from  view.  Gordon  made  for  the  door  by  which  he  had  entered 
and  glanced  along  the  hall  to  see  if  there  was  a  door  opening  from 
the  room  his  contductor  entered.  Finding  this  to  be  the  case,  he 
kept  his  eye  on  it  and  listened  for  further  developments.  Hearing 
voices,  one  of  which  seemed  to  be  in  anger  at  being  aroused,  he 
seemed  more  assured,  but  still  kept  a  close  watch. 

Stilling  the  mysterious  clock  for  fear  it  would  give  warning 
of  its  presence,  Robert  went  through  the  sham  performance  of 
awakening  somebody,  changing  his  voice  to  suit.  Meantime  he 
removed  every  vestige  of  the  swarthy,  dark  appearance  of  his  face 
and  hands.  Inspecting  his  altered  appearance  in  the  mirror  and 
being  satisfied  that  Gordon  could  not  recognize  him  as  the  compan- 
ion of  his  long  ride,  he  opened  the  door  with  head  half  turned 
giving  some  order  to  the  imaginary  valet  or  porter,  then  bringing 
his  piercing  eyes  to  bear  on  his  visitor,  he  started  back  with  an 
exclamation  of  well-feigned  surprise.  What  followed  has  been 
given  the  reader  in  opening  chapter,  so  we  will  pass  on  to  the  end 
of  this  strange  meeting  and  follow  Gordon  as  he  departs  with 
bowed  head  and  puzzled  brain. 

*  *  *  *  *  *  * 

Gordon  passed  out  and  down  the  marble  steps  and  struck  the 
street  along  which  he  hurried  with  downcast  head  and  blurred  eyes, 
sick  at  heart,  for  this  noble  man  had  loved  his  brother  and  playmate 
from  boyhood's  earliest  remembrances  with  a  deep  affection,  having 
a  manly  respect  for  his  superior  g9odness. 

"Yes,  there  is  a  change  in  him,  and  a  great  one,  too ;  but  I 
failed  to  notice  it  at  first.  Oh,  God,  that  this  should  be!  I  see  it 
all  now,  and  he  loves  Dorris,  sweet  Dorris.  But  I  am  afraid  it  is  a 
passion  and  not  a  love  for  her,  not  the  pure  holy  love  I  would  offer 
her.  Ah,  if  it  was  only  a  real  love,  my  brother,  instead  of  a  pas- 
sion that  would  burn  itself  out  in  time  and  leave  her  only  the  shell 
that  holds  it,  blackened  and  charred  and  useless,  I  would  say — yes, 
I  believe  I  would  leave  the  field  clear  for  you ;  but  no,  oh  no,  what 
am  I  thinking  of?  I  could  not,  I  never  could  give  up  the  hope  of 
winning  her,  not  even  for  him.  I  would  willingly  give  all  I  pos- 
sess, or  all  my  chances  of  future  possessions,  to  bring  back  my 
brother  to  me,  for  I  still  love  him  as  a  brother  should,  though  he 
has  no  love  or  friendship  in  his  heart  for  me.  Anyhow,  I  am  sure 
he  does  not  love  her  as  I  do  or  he  would  not  have  spent  the  last 


WICKED   CITY.  158 

two  years  on  Spanish  lands  when  she  was  all  this  time  in  America. 
No,  his  love  for  her  can  not  be  what  mine  is.  I  feel  justified  be- 
fore God  in  pleading  my  love  at  her  feet,  if  the  clock  proves  that  I 
have  a  right  to  lay  my  love  at  the  feet  of  any  pure  girl.  Well,  this 
horrible  suspense  will  soon  be  over.  It  was  fortunate  that  I  found 
Robert  just  at  this  time,  time  for  the  ceremonies  to  be  gone  through 
with  on  the  first  of  May  in  the  presence  of  our  lawyer  who  still 
holds  the  will  and  key.  It  is  a  strange  will  and  certainly  most 
unjust,  for  it  leaves  the  illegitimate  son  a  pauper,  and — and  a  jest 
for  the  idle  scandal  mongers,  with  which  this  great  world  Is  so 
infested.  It  leaves  the  unfortunate  one  only  a  blackened  name  to 
begin  the  world  with.  Our  father  seemed  to  love  us  both  during 
his  life,  why  was  he  so  unjust  to  the  innocent  at  his  death?  I  know 
he  died  of  remorse  for  his  early  sin.  If  he  had  left  the  property 
and  income  to  the  son  of  his  sinful  lust,  it  would  be  more  like  jus- 
tice. Well,  it  is  a  puzzle  that  few  could  figure  out.  If  the  prop- 
erty falls  to  me,  I  will  share  it  with  Robert,  but,  ah,  I  forget.  It 
is  so  situated  he  could  not  leave  it  to  any  illegitimate  son,  neither 
can  we  share  it  for  it  is  entailed."  Thus  ending  his  musings,  he 
straightened  his  shoulders  and  quickened  his  pace  with  the  air  of  a 
man  prepared  to  look  the  world  in  the  face,  and  unflinchingly  meet 
the  fate  it  held  in  store  for  him.  The  walk  and  cool  air  cleared 
his  brain.  He  began  to  glance  around  and  wondered  why  he  had 
not  thought  of  taking  a  cab.  As  if  in  answer  to  his  thoughts,  a 
voice  from  the  street  hailed  him.  "Ain't  you  going  to  ride  back, 
Mister?"  Turning,  he  discovered  a  hack,  which  had  been  fol- 
lowing. 

"Why,  yes,  certainly,  I  had  forgotten  the  hack  as  well  as  your 
fee,  but  drive  me  to  my  hotel  and  you  shall  have  double  your  fee 
for  my  absent-mindedness."  Arriving  there,  he  alighted.  While 
paying  the  hackman,  Gordon  looked  sharply  at  him.  "Now,  look 
here,  my  clever  friend,  if  you  will  tell  me  why  it  only  took  about 

one-third  the  time  to  come  from  the  L ,  that  it  did  to  drive  to  it, 

I  will  double  that  fee  you  have  in  your  hand.  Now,  the  truth,  man, 
why  is  it,  can  you  explain  it  and  earn  this?"  (Tossing  in  the  air 
three  silver  dollars,  one  after  the  other  as  he  spoke.) 

"Well,  I  don't  know  as  there  is  any  harm  in  telling  you."  The 
hackman's  eyes  glistened  greedily  as  the  silver  pieces  fell  one  on  the 
other,  giving  out  a  merry  jingle  which  suggested  many  extras  for 
the  little  ones  at  home.  "You  see  it  was  jes'  this  way:  While  you 
wus  inside,  the  gent  with  the  wicked  eyes  told  me  as  I  wus  to  drive 
around  the  city  till  the  tower  clock  struck  the  hour,  then  I  wus  to 
drive  straight  to  his  quarters  and  he  would  give  me  two  dollars 
extra.  He  gave  it  to  me  and  I  done  as  he  told  me  to.  See?" 

"Yes,  I  see ;  but  did  you  see  this  man  come  out  while  you  were 
waiting?" 

"No,  he  did  not  come  out  as  I  see." 

A  moment  later  Gordon  was  sitting  in  his  quarters,  his  brows 
knit  in  deep  thought,  but  the  silver  pieces  were  keeping  up  their 
merry  jingle  in  company  with  the  rest  of  a  good  evening's  work  in 


164  WICKED   CITY. 

the  Jehu's  pocket,  while  a  contented  smile  played  over  his  weather- 
beaten  countenance.  The  poor  hackman  was  the  happiest  of  the 
three  main  actors  of  this  evening's  tragedy-comedy  play  in  the  city 
of  wickedness. 

DORRIS. 

The  next  day  dawned  fine  and  clear  and  there  was  the  smell  of 
spring  in  the  air  as  Robert  stepped  off  the  accommodation  at  Sun- 
nyside  and  struck  into  the  path  that  led  to  the  beautiful  river.  Fol- 
lowing this  for  some  distance  along  its  banks,  he  came  in  sight  of 
a  most  picturesque  scene  of  nature  and  habitation.  The  smoke  was 
lazily  curling  up  from  the  chimney  of  a  small,  but  well  preserved, 
snug  looking  cottage  with  Gothic  roof  and  Venetian  blinds,  around 
which  grew  a  great  profusion  of  trailing  ivy.  The  cottage  itself 
seemed  a  portion  of  the  landscape  which  was  beautiful  in  the  ex- 
treme. The  surroundings  were  in  keeping  with  the  house  which 
stood  amid  this  wooded  scenery  some  distance  from  the  banks  of  the 
stream,  not  so  far  but  the  rippling  music  made  by  the  water  forcing 
its  way  over  the  rocky  bed  could  be  heard.  An  arbor  of  wild  grape 
vines  lead  from  the  rear  to  a  little  summer  house  by  the  river,  built 
of  rustic  limbs  gleaned  from  the  woods.  A  swing  of  heavy  ropes 
was  idly  swaying  between  two  large  trees  which  were  like  the  rest 
of  high  nature,  just  budding  out  to  keep  in  form  with  the  green 
grass  at  their  feet.  A  small  boat  was  gently  tugging  at  its  tether, 
caused  by  the  action  of  the  passing  water.  There  were  also  rustic 
seats  under  the  great  trees,  dotting  the  shore  and  park  which  gave 
all  an  inviting  look.  This  scene  in  all  its  details  spoke  of  peace  and 
happiness,  for  who  could  be  otherwise  than  at  rest  and  happy, 
if  he  were  at  peace  with  himself  and  the  great  world  in  a  spot 
like  this.  But  Robert  noted  little  of  this,  only  in  a  quick,  rapid 
glance  around,  which  seemed  to  take  in  every  point  without  resting 
on  any  particular  one.  He  was  looking  for  the  object  of  his  visit 
to  appear.  Not  being  favored  with  a  glimpse  of  her,  he  turned  and 
pushed  deeper  into  the  woods.  Satisfying  himself  that  he  was 
secure  from  observation,  he  rapidly  went  through  the  wonderful 
change  in  which  he  had  become  so  apt  as  to  cause  him  very  little 
loss  of  time  and  patience.  Examining  his  features  critically  in  a 
little  pocket  mirror,  he  then  made  a  detour  and  brought  up  on  the 
opposite  side  of  this  beautiful  home.  The  advantage  he  gained 
from  this  point  was  something,  for  he  commanded  the  view  of  a 
long  veranda,  a  perfect  network  of  morning-glories  and  ivy,  but  no 
living  thing  met  his  eye,  except  a  robin  which  was  hopping  daintily 
around,  picking  up  crumbs  that  had  evidently  been  scattered  on  the 
brick  walk  by  some  kindly  hand.  Another  robin  joined  the  first, 
and  still  another,  and  they  shared  the*  crumbs,  but  their  gentle 
benefactress  did  not  appear. 

The  time  to  meet  Gordon  was  drawing  near  so  he  retraced 
his  steps  and  leisurely  sauntered  along  toward  the  station.  He  had 
not  proceeded  far,  when  he  saw  the  object  of  his  thoughts  walking 


WICKED   CITY.  150 

rapidly  toward  him.  Gordon,  grasping  the  hand  of  his  brother  as 
he  bid  him  good  day,  wrung  it  and  said : 

"I  have  it,  Robert,  I  have  what  you  need  and  now  there  is 
nothing  to  keep  you  from  going  with  me  to  London.  Here  it  is, 
partly  in  gold.  I  don't  know,  you  may  be  a  silver  advocate,  but  gold 
is  less  bulky.  The  banks  here,  some  of  them  any  way,  are  putting 
out  considerable  gold,  so  here  it  is." 

As  he  spoke,  he  extended  a  leather  pouch  to  Robert  with  the 
air  of  one  who  was  pleased  that  it  was  in  his  power  to  perform 
this  little  favor.  Gordon's  heart  was  better  than  the  gold  he  had 
procured  so  willingly  for  his  brother  to  alleviate  his  supposed  finan- 
cial difficulties.  Robert  unceremoniously  accepted  the  bag,  anrl 
emptying  the  bills  and  bright  yellow  gold  pieces  into  his  pockets, 
returned  it,  saying,  only: 

"You  had  better  keep  this,  you  may  need  it  to  bring  me  another 
load  some  day." 

Gordon's  face  fell  for  just  a  second  at  the  carelessness  of  this 
speech,  then  it  cleared  and  the  same  good-natured  bright  and  genial 
expression  so  characteristic  of  him  returned. 

"Ah,  well,  you  will  have  your  little  joke,  Robert.  Have  you 
waited  long?  Were  you  in  sight  of  their  little  nest  out  here  in  the 
woods?" 

"Yes,  I  was  near  there." 

"Is  it  not  beautiful?" 

"\Vhat?" 

"Why,  the  little  home  they  have,  the  grounds  surrounding  it 
and  all?" 

"Oh,  yes,  the  scenery,  you  mean.  It  is  very  pretty,  but  I  did 
not  see  any  of  the  inmates  stirring.  Possibly  they  are  away?" 

"No,  for  there  is  her  pony,  'Bonny  Bess',  she  calls  it.  Yes, 
and  there  she  is  herself!" 

They  were  near  the  summer  house  now,  and  Gordon  laid  his 
hand  on"  his  brother's  shoulder,  stopping  him  in  his  tracks. 

"Isn't  that  a  pretty  scene,  the  perfect  picture  of  innocence,  grace 
and  beauty,  peace  and  contentment?" 

They  both  gazed  in  admiration.  The  blood  leaped  in  Robert's 
veins.  Indeed  it  was  a  pretty  picture  which  these  two  men  gazed 
upon  with  such  admiration,  now  oblivious  of  each  others  presence. 
Dorris  was  seemingly  about  to  go  for  a  row  and  had  stopped  to 
give  her  pet  (a  handsome  black  pony)  a  lump  of  sugar,  along  with 
a  caress  for  she  had  one  arm  around  the  pony's  neck,  while  with  her 
disengaged  hand  she  was  feeding  it.  A  beautiful  water  spaniel  was 
jumping  about  barking  and  tugging  at  her  dress,  as  if  jealous  of  the 
attention  she  was  giving  the  larger  animal.  She  was  neatly  dressed 
in  a  costume  which  fitted  her  beautiful  form  with  such  perfection  as 
to  bring  out  every  graceful  outline  to  correspond  with  the  beauti- 
fud  face  and  dark  hair  so  tastefully  and  neatly  arranged.  Her  eyes 
were  of  that  honest  brown  and  her  pure  soul  looked  out  as  she 
raised  the  large  drooping  lashes  that  shaded  them.  Her  cheeks  and 
lips  made  one  think  of  red-ripe  peaches.  As  she  smiled  down  at 
the  antics  of  her  spaniel  who  insisted  on  her  sharing  her  attention 


156  WICKED   CTTY. 

with  him,  it  was  seen  that  her  teeth  were  perfect  in  arrangement 
and  white  as  milk.  The  face  in  all  its  details  was  perfect  and  inter- 
estingly beautiful,  not  with  that  kind  of  beauty  we  so  often  see 
which  is  9nly  beauty  in  itself  and  nothing  more;  but  in  this 
Madonna-like  face  could  be  seen  a  depth  unfathomed  of  moral 
strength  of  character,  a  face  brimful  of  good  will  and  good  intent. 
Removing  her  arm  from  the  pony's  neck,  she  patted  her  other 
pet  which  so  pleased  him  that  he  ran  around  in  a  circle,  scattering 
the  loose  accumulations  of  the  ground  in  every  direction.  But 
noting  that  she  had  again  turned  her  attention  to  the  pony,  his  rival 
for  her  favors,  he  stopped  short  and  began  to  evince  his  displeasure 
by  looking  up  at  her  in  a  kind  of  mournful  and  coaxing  way,  emit- 
ting sharp  barks  to  attract  her  attention  meanwhile.  The  pony 
lowered  his  nose  near  his  jealous  rival  who  growled  and  showed 
his  dislike  by  wrinkling  up  his  lip  and  looking  sullen,  for  he  did 
not  dare  to  snap  at  her,  Dorris  having  taught  him  better  manners. 
But  it  did  not  prevent  him  from  thinking  a  good  deal  and  looking 
ugly ;  but  oh,  what  a  change  as  she  again  turned  after  feeding  the 
last  lump  of  sugar  to  her  big  pet  and  resumed  her  walk  towards  the 
water!  The  spaniel  showed  his  extreme  pleasure  by  cutting  up  all 
kinds  of  capers,  running  and  cavorting  about  ahead  of  her,  barking 
joyfully,  causing  his  mistress  to  laugh  and  say:  "Why,  Toots,  I 
really  believe  that  you  were  getting  jealous  again.  Have  I  not 
taught  you  better  than  that?  1  am  afraid  I  will  have  to  give  you  less 
acrobatic  lessons  and  mare  moral  lessons,  for  it  is  wrong  to  oe 
jealous." 


WICKED   CITY.  167 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"THE  BROTHERS'  COMPACT." 

As  she  spoke,  the  words  and  the  silver  tones  she  uttered  them 
in  reached  the  ears  of  the  two  young  men.  Not  till  then  did  they 
seem  to  be  cognizant  of  each  others  presence.  Then  did  these  two 
brothers  recognize  the  fact  that  (although  it  may  be  wrong  to  be 
jealous  as  they  had  heard  her  tell  Toots)  they  were  jealous  already, 
for  nature  had  conquered  Gordon.  For  a  moment  only,  did  he 
allow  this  feeling  to  hold  him.  Then  uprooting  it  with  a  mighty 
effort,  he  laid  his  arm  across  the  shoulders  of  Robert  and  looked  at 
him  with  troubled  eyes. 

"Robert,  tell  me,  could  you  find  it  in  your  heart  to  wreck  this 
peaceful  home  by  ruining  the  life  of  N  that  beautiful  girl?  Look  at 
her,  look  at  her  well.  She  is  coming^  this  way." 

Robert  looked,  a  bitter  struggle  going  on  within  him. 

"Can  you  wreck  that  sweet  life  by  marrying  her  if  you  prove 
to  be  what  you  so  much  fear?  Could  you,  Robert?  Answer  me, 
man.  Could  you  do  it?" 

"No,  no,  Gordon,  a  thousand  times,  no.  I  could  not.  'Gordon, 
does  she  not  make  you  think  of  our  boyhood  days,  when  we  were 
both  almost  as  perfect  as  she  in  a  moral  point  of  view?  Remem- 
bering my  wrecked  life,  could  I  wreck  hers?  No,  Gordon,  I  love 
her  too  well  to  attempt  it.  The  illegitimate  son  shall  make  way 
for  the  legitimate  son." 

Gordon's  eyes  glistened  with  tears  of  brotherly  love,  as  he 
pressed  the  hand  and  thanked  him  for  the  manly  spirit  he  had 
shown.  In  fact,  he  was  so  exuberant  that  he  forgot  for  the  moment 
his  surroundings,  or  that  Dorris,  the  unconscious  cause  of  this  feel- 
ing, was  near,  and  gave  a  shout  that  awoke  the  echos  about  and  also 
awoke  her  to  passing  events,  one  of  which  was  the  comical  figure 
of  two  men  holding  hands,  one  capering  about  like  a  mad  man. 
Her  first  impulse  was  to  retreat,  and  attempted  to,  when  she  recog- 
nized Gordon's  voice  catling  her.  She  stopped  and  blushed  rosy  red 
as  he  rapidly  advanced  leading  Robert  by  a  length. 

"Don't  go,  Miss  Waite.  Excuse  me  for  frightening  you,  but 
I  could  really  shout  at  the  top  of  my  voice  for  joy.  Our  friend 
and  brother  has  come  back  to  us,  and  here  he  is." 

Stepping  to  one  side  so  Robert  could  better  be  seen  as  he  ad- 
vanced around  the  summer  house,  he  noted  the  glad  light  that  leaped 
to  her  eyes  as  she  recognized  him.  Springing  forward,  she  gave  him 
a  hearty  welcome,  but  while  chiding  him  for  not  writing  or  coming 
sooner,  her  generous  heart  prompted  her  to  think  of  the  dear  mother 


158  WICKED  CITY. 

whom  she  knew  would  be  so  pleased  to  see  him  again.  So  in  order 
not  to  delay  the  pleasure  for  a  moment,  she  dragged  him  towards 
the  house  with  her  two  little  hands  clasped  around  his.  Arriving 
at  the  vine-clad  veranda,  she  ushered  him  up  the  steps  and  through 
the  archway  of  trailing  vines  into  the  presence  of  her  beautiful 
mother,  for  her  mother  was  still  beautiful  in  spite  of  age  and  years 
of  remorffe.  Her  beauty  was  a  spiritual  beauty  and,  like  her  daugh- 
ter's, would  fade  only  when  the  body  went  back  to  clay  from  whence 
it  came.  She  arose  as  Dorris  unceremoniously  ushered  her  prisoner 
in  crying,  "Ah,  mother  dear,  now  you  will  have  to  worry  no  more 
or  cry  your  dear  eyes  out,  for  here  is  Mr.  Long,  safe  and  sound." 

Gordon,  having  been  left  trailing  along  behind,  had  not  reached 
the  sitting-room,  and  Mrs.  Waite  imagined  it  was  he  her  daughter 
was  dragging  by  the  hand.  She  seemed  hardly  pleased  to  see  her 
so  familiar. 

"Good  afternoon,  Mr.  Long,  won't  you  be  seated?  Dorris, 
please  stop  acting  so  unladylike  and  take  Mr.  Long's  hat." 

She  obediently  dropped  Robert's  hand  which  was  perspiring 
from  her  warm  clasp  and  took  his  hat,  placing  it  on  her  own  shapely 
head  in  her  excitement  to  explain,  rushed  up  to  her  mother  and 
embracing  her  cried,  "Mother,  darling,  don't  you  recognize  him? 
It  is  Mr.  Robert.  It  is  Gordon's — oh,  here  is  Gordon  himself,  he 
will — ."  She  got  no  further,  for  as  Gordon  entered  the  room,  Mrs. 
Waite  looked  from  one  to  the  other  with  evident  excitement  and 
astonishment.  Taking  one  step  toward  Robert,  she  extended  her 
hands  and  tried  to  speak  some  words  of  welcome ;  but  they  were 
unintelligible,  and  lost  even  in  the  stillness  that  had  reigned  in  the 
room  during  the  brief  period  she  was  gazing  at  the  two  men,  so 
like  in  appearance.  Another  step  forward,  she  swayed  and  would 
have  fallen  if  Gordon  had  not  caught  her  in  his  strong  arms.  She 
had  fainted.  They  laid  her  gently  on  a  couch  and  applied  restora- 
tives ;  but  without  avail.  Dorris  was  frantic  with  grief  and  begged 
Gordon  to  get  their  physician. 

"His  number?"  he  inquired. 

"Get  our  family  physician,  Dr.  \Varder." 

Assuring  her  it  was  only  a  fainting  spell  to  allay  her  fears,  he 
hurried  to  the  station  and  by  telephone  requested  the  doctor  to  drive 
over  without  a  moment's  delay.  Upon  his  return  he  found  Robert 
making  preparations  to  leave,  offering  as  an  excuse  that  he  thought 
it  would  be  better  that  she  did  not  see  him  when  she  came  to.  So 
he  made  his  departure,  bidding  them  a  hasty  adieu,  assuring  them 
he  would  call  the  day  following,  left  the  house  and  struck  into  the 
path  that  led  to  the  station.  As  he  walked  rapidly  along,  he  glanced 
back  and  noted  that  the  doctor  was  just  driving  up,  his  horse  cov- 
ered with  foam  and  reeking  with  sweat.  Stopping  at  a  convenient 
place  to  make  his  change,  he  boarded  a  train  and  was  once  more 
in  the  heart  of  the  metropolis.  He  seemed  to  have  no  thought  of 
the  unconscious  woman  he  had  left  behind. 

"I  don't  care  to  take  any  chances  on  that  doctor.  Can't  imag- 
ine what  she  keeled  over  for.  Guess  she  is  bothered  with  heart 
trouble  or  something  else,"  and  so  he  dismissed  her  from  his 


WICKED  CITY,  169 

thoughts.  The  face  of  the  other  occupant  of  the  ivy-clad  cottage 
was  continually  before  him.  Even  the  maddening  whirl  of  busy  life 
and  excitement,  which  always  pervaded  Chicago's  great  center, 
failed  to  divert  his  mind  from  the  question  he  was  considering  as  he 
walked  along.  Could  he  keep  his  promise  to  his  brother?  The 
good  that  had  been  aroused  was  fast  being  consumed  by  the  furnace 
of  evil  within  him,  and  he  was  ashamed  of  what  he  termed  the 
weakness  shown  for  a  moment  to  Gordon  as  he  gazed  at  the  spir- 
itual, Madonna-like  face  of  Dorris. 

"I  presume  she  has  admirers  by  the  score,  but  I  have  only  one 
rival  to  fear,  and  that  is  my  conscientious  brother.  If  he  succeeds 
to  the  estates,  he  is  to  be  feared;  but  if  by  any  possible  chance  he 
should  not  be  the  heir,  I  have  a  clear  field  with  every  chance  of  suc- 
cess, for  he  is  too  honorable  to  continue  his  attentions.  Anyway,  I 
will  go  kind  of  slow  till  that  infernal  clock  settles  the  question  one 
way  or  the  other." 


The  following  day  found  him  walking  briskly  along  the  wooded 
pathway  in  the  direction  of  the  ivy  cottage. 

"By  Jove,  there  is  Gordon  coming  this  way.  I  must  take  no 
chances."  Diving  into  the  bushes  and  waiting  until  his  brother 
passed,  he  made  his  change  and  resumed  his  way  to  the  cottage. 
As  he  neared  the  summer  house,  he  heard  a  sweet  voice  say,  "Why, 
Mr.  Gordon,  I  thought  you  were  at  the  station  by  this  time."  So 
this  was  where  Gordon  had  made  his  adieu,  probably  after  a  delight- 
ful tete-a-tete  with  his  sweet  hostess.  "Can  it  be  he  is  under- 
handed and  is  playing  his  cards  to  win  in  spite  of  the  honor  he  was 
preaching  to  me  about?  Wanted  to  steer  me  off  while  he  bagged 
the  game,  eh?  I  know  he  is  a  point  ahead  of  me  on  account  of  hav- 
ing the  opportunity  that  stone  walls  and  iron  bars  have  deprived  me 
of,  and  I  guess  he  means  to  keep  that  point  ahead  of  me,  too,  if 
love  scenes  in  summer  houses  will  do  it."  His  active  mind  formed 
these  false  conclusions  instantaneously  as  she  spoke  and  appeared 
at  the  rustic  doorway,  a  picture  of  loveliness.  A  blush  tinged  her 
cheek  as  she  comprehended  her  mistake.  Robert  assuming  manli- 
ness and  sincerity,  politely  doffed  his  hat  and  extended  his  hand, 
inquiring  after  the  health  of  herself  and  mother. 

"Oh,  I  am  well  and  glad  to  see  you  again,  as  I  know  mother 
also  will  be.  She  is  all  right  to-day,  and  has  asked  about  you  many 
times.  Won't  you  come  in  and  see  her?" 

Gently  releasing  her  soft  hand  from  his,  she  led  the  way.  Mrs. 
Waite  was  reclining  in  an  easy  chair  on  the  veranda.  She  arose 
and  hurried  to  meet  them. 

"Good  morning,  Mrs.  Waite.  I  am  glad  to  see  you  about 
again." 

She  grasped  his  hand  and  replied,  "Yes,  Mr.  Long,  and  I  am 
more  than  pleased  to  see  you  again  after  all  these  years.  You  must 
excuse  me  for  my  weakness  last  evening.  Your  brother  and  I  had 
given  you  up  for  dead  and  the  shock  of  meeting  you  so  suddenly 


160  WICKED   CITY. 

was  a  little  too  much  for  my  nerves  which  are  not  very  strong  in 
my  advancing  years." 

"Don't  think  of  it.  The  apology,  if  there  is  one  necessary, 
should  be  on  my  part  and  not  yours,  for  so  unceremoniously  appear- 
ing before  you  as  I  did;  but  let  us  all  be  thankful  that  no  serious 
consequence  resulted  from  my  lack  of  forethought." 

"Yes,  and  let  us  all  thank  God  for  bringing  you  among  us 
again.  Your  brother  was  almost  wild  about  your  unaccountable 
absence ;  and  as  the  time  drew  near  when  the  question  as  to  who 
was  heir  was  to  be  settled  by  that  strange  clock,  he  lost  all  hope  of 
ever  seeing  you  again  on  this  earth.  But  he  used  to  say  he  would  be 
sure  to  see  you  in  heaven,  if  he,  himself,  were  permitted  to  enter 
there  when  this  short  life  here  on  earth  was  given  up  for  that  more 
glorious  one;  for  you  were  all  that  was  good  and  noble  in  the 
days  in  which  he  had  known  you.  Your  brother,  Mr.  Long,  thinks 
a  great  deal  of  you.  Why  do  you  not  honor  him  with  your  confi- 
dence? He  is  much  puzzled  to  know  the  reason  why  you  were 
silent  for  so  long,  not  even  the  scratch  of  a  pen  to  tell  that  you 
were  still  alive.  He  loves  you  so  dearly,  will  you  not  trust  him  and 
relieve  his  mind?  He  can  not  bear  to  think  that  it  was  through 
any  act  of  his.  He  is  also  afraid  that  he  has  lost  your  love." 

Robert,  thus  cornered,  hesitated  but  a  moment  and  replied,  after 
wrongly  thinking  to  himself,  "Gordon  has  taken  a  spoke  out  of  my 
wheel." 

"Mrs.  Waite,  I  am  deeply  honored  by  the  interest  you  take  in 
me.  I  hardly  expected  to  be  remembered  by  you  and  your  charming 
daughter  after  such  a  lapse  of  time  and  following  such  a  short 
acquaintance.  Again  you  flatter  me  by  evincing  such  an  interest  in 
me,  and  I  am  indeed  truly  sorry  that  I  have  not  a  more  practical 
reason  to  advance  for  my  absence ;  but  the  only  reason  I  can  give 
him  and  my  friends,  who  care  to  know  is,  that  I  took  a  notion  to  be 
inconsistent,  an  impulse  born  from  some  romantic  desire  to  lose 
myself  in  foreign  countries,  which  I  did.  The  only  things  I  can 
attribute  it  to,  are  the  vagaries  of  man  in  general.  As  to  Gordon, 
he  may  set  his  mind  at  rest,  for  I  still  love  him,  the  same  as  I 
respect  you  and  your  daughter  who  he  is  fortunate  to  have  as 
companions."  Blandly  and  smoothly  did  he  prevaricate  to  account 
for  the  years  spent  in  a  London  prison. 

"Gordon  tells  us  that  you  were  in  Spain  much  of  the  time." 

"Yes,  and  many  other  places.    I  lately  arrived  from  Cuba." 

They  were  sitting  now  in  the  cozy  parlor  and  Mrs.  Waite  had, 
in  her  gentle  tactful  way,  changed  the  subject  first  started  and  they 
then  talked  of  many  things  interesting  to  all.  Time  passed  rapidly. 
The  dinner  hour  came.  Robert  was  pressed  to  remain  and  dine, 
but,  thanking  them  and  stating  that  a  business  matter  which  required 
his  personal  attention  in  the  city  would  deprive  him  of  this  added 
pleasure,  he  made  his  departure.  Mrs.  Waite  warmly  urged  him  to 
come  often,  an  invitation  seconded  by  Dorris. 

******  * 

Number  "49,"  ensconced  in  an  easy  chair  at  his  comfortable 


WICKED   CITY.  161 

quarters  and  lazily  watching  the  wreathes  of  blue  smoke  as  they  as- 
clear  Havana  as  they  ascended  and  formed  into  rings,  mused:  "I 
must  win  Dorris  at  all  hazards,  no  matter  by  what  means.  Life  is 
slow,  but  with  her  I  believe  I  could  turn  over  a  new  leaf,  or  turn 
back  to  the  leaf  I  was  on  up  to  my  nineteenth  year  when  old  nurse 
on  her  dying  bed  informed  me  that  she  believed  I  was  the  one.  I 
wonder  what  caused  her  to  think  so,  or  did  she  know?  Well,  I  am 
bad  enough  as  it  is,  when  there  is  some  little  prospect  ahead,  but 
should  I  lose  name,  home  and  the  chance  of  winning  this  pure  girl ; 
I  wonder  how  far  I  could  venture,  and  how  long  I  would  last? 
Well,  with  the  winnings  I  have  lately  made  at  cards  in  club  rooms 
and  Gordon's  stake,  I  have  enough  to  start  life  on  with  Dorris, 
sweet  Dorris,  and  live  an  honest  life  for  all  time  to  come,  legiti- 
mate son  or  no.  Yes,  I  could  marry  and  go  into  the  mercantile  busi- 
ness, a  business  that  would  meet  her  expectations  regarding  honesty 
and  all  that  'rot.'  For  her  sake  I  would  do  anything.  And  still 
Gordon  has  the  assurance  to  say  it  is  only  a  passion.  Ah,  if  he 
only  knew  what  a  passion ;  a  passion  that  will  brook  no  interfer- 
ence, a  passion  that  must  win,  for  it  will  never  burn  out  as  he 
claims." 


162  WICKED   CITY. 


CHAPTER   VIL 

GORDON  HEARS  FROM  LONDON. 

At  this  moment  his  musings  were  interrupted  by  a  knock  at  the 
door.  It  was  a  bell  boy  who  bore  a  silver  platter  upon  which  rested 
a  card.  He  read  the  name,  rapidly  thinking  meantime,  "Gordon 
Long."  "Show  him  up  in  about  five  minutes,"  he  said,  "I  have  my 
toilet  to  finish  yet." 

The  boy  disappeared  and  Robert,  quickly  making  his  change, 
sat  down  by  the  open  window.  A  moment  or  two  passed,  then  a 
knock  at  the  door.  Without  arising,  he  raised  his  voice  in  an  invita- 
tion to  enter.  The  knob  slowly  turned  and  Gordon  dragged  himself 
into  the  room.  Sinking  into  a  chair  he  groaned  like  a  man  in  agony, 
and  in  real  agony  he  was,  too,  agony  of  the  mind,  the  worst  kind 
of  agony,  an  agony  that  rings  a  moan  from  the  lips  that  is  never 
caused  by  a  physical  pain.  On  Robert's  rising  and  asking  the  rea- 
son of  his  agitation,  he  replied  by  handing  him  an  unsealed  letter 
with  a  London  postmark.  "Ah !"  A  light  broke  over  him.  "He 
has  heard  from  old  Giles,  who  has  probably  informed  him  that  the 
clock  is  again  missing.  Good!" 

Stepping  nearer  the  light  he  extracted  the  contents  of  the  envel- 
ope. The  rattle  of  the  stiff  English  note-paper  (which  was  written 
on  by  a  cramped  and  nervous  hand)  was  the  only  sound  to  be  heard 
until  Robert  had  finished  the  following,  bearing  on  the  clock's  mys- 
terious disappearance: 

"Master,  I  hopes  as  you  will  forgive  an  old 

servant,  but  after  over  twenty  years  of  service  and  faithful  attend- 
ance to  my  duties,  I  have  to  confess  that  I  have  failed  to  attend  to 
them  as  I  should  while  you  have  been  away ;  for  dear  master,  many 
days  passed  that  I  did  not  visit  the  room  the  clock  was  in.  I  say 
'was,'  for  it  is  there  no  more.  My  head  is  bowed  low  in  remorse, 
master,  for  if  I  had  dusted  the  angel  top-piece  and  its  trappings 
every  day  as  you  told  me  to  and  looked  at  the  time  once  in  a  while, 
the  angel  would  have  stayed  on  earth  with  the  treasure  it  guarded. 
You  will  say  that  it  has  been  stolen,  but,  master,  no  one  has  been  in 
this  house  since  you  left.  The  outside  doors  have  been  securely 
locked,  so  it  is  surely  gone  for  good  this  time.  God  knows,  master, 
I  wuld  give  up  my  poor  old  life  sooner  than  lose  the  strange  clock, 
knowing  the  value  you  place  upon  it  on  account  of  the  secret  it 
holds.  I  informed  the  lawyers  and  they  said  as  they  would  write 
you.  They  said  as  they  were  going  to  offer  a  reward  and  they  said 
as  you  was  to  put  some  advertisement  in  the  American  papers,  but 
bless  you,  master,  I  know  that  it  would  do  no  good,  for  spirits  do 


WICKED   CITY.  168 

not  answer  advertisements  in  the  papers  and  bring  things  back  for 
a  money  consideration.  You  must  pray,  master,  pray  for  the  return 
of  it,  as  I  pray  for  the  return  of  master  Robert  from  out  the  devil 
what  he  is  in.  I  am,  your  disobedient  and  unfortunate  servant, 

GILES  MANNERRLY." 

"Good!  That  is  just  the  thing!  Old  Giles  has  played  into  my 
hands  nicely.  He  will  advertise  here  and  then  I  can  get  in  my 
work." 

Replacing  the  letter  in  its  envelope,  he.  returned  it  to  Gordon, 
saying  aloud  with  cool  concern,  "You  don't  put  any  stock  in  that 
'rot/  do  you?" 

"No,  why  certainly  not,  my  dear  brother,  Giles  is  getting  worse 
and  worse  every  year.  He  has  all  kinds  of  fancies  all  as  absurd  and 
impossible  as  the  fancy  that  you  have  turned  into  a  'devil.'  Some 
thief  has  stolen  it  and  has  by  this  time  disposed  of  its  jewels  and 
ornaments  and  probably  ruined  the  mechanical  apparatus  so  the 
secret  would  be  forever  buried." 

"Why  do  you  take  on  so  ?  I  did  not  know  before,  Gordon,  that 
you  were  as  avaricious  as  you  seem  to  be.  I  would  not  let  the  loss 
of  paltry  houses  and  lands  affect  me  like  that." 

"Ah,  Robert,  you  do  me  an  injustice.  If  you  knew  how  litiie 
I  care  for  the  loss  of  houses  and  lands,  as  you  say;  if  it  were  only 
houses  and  lands  and  no  other  loss  attached  to  them! 
But,  Robert,  do  you  not  know  what  it  means  to  lose  the  clock  that 
holds  the  secret  of  our  birth.  Means!  Why  it  means  that  it  places 
Dorris  beyond  our  reach  for  all  time.  Don't ^  you  see  that  if  the 
clock  is  lost  we  would  never  know  which  one  is  the  legitimate  son, 
and  neither  of  us  could,  in  honor,  continue  our  attentions  to  her? 
Oh,  God,  what  a  complication  of  affairs !  When  will  the  truth  be 
known?  This  waiting  in  suspense  is  more  trying  than  the  truth 
revealed." 

"Have  you  advertised  yet?"  Robert  inquired. 

"I  hardly  think  it  is  in  this  country,"  Gordon  replied. 

"Well,  you  can't  tell ;  they  might  be  afraid  to  dispose  of  it 
there  and  would  bring  it  to  New  York  or  Chicago  or  they  might 
have  stolen  it  for  ransom." 

"So  you  think  I  had  better  advertise  for  it  here,  too?" 

"Yes,  and  offer  a  reward  that  will  be  an  object  to  them,"  sug- 
gested Robert. 

"What  shall  we  offer  as  a  reward?"  Gordon  asked. 

"I  have  nothing,  Gordon,  so  make  the  amount  as  large  as  you 
can." 

^'Well,  you  had  better  get  about  it,  if  you  want  to  get  your 
ad.  in  for  the  evening  papers."  So  Robert  hurried  him  off  before 
the  subject  of  their  conversation  could  give  warning  of  its  pres- 
ence. 

"I  will  meet  you  at  Sunnyside  after  dinner." 

The  brothers  met  as  agreed,  not  only  that  evening,  but  many 
afternoons  they  could  be  found  at  Ivy  cottage,  enjoying  the  society 
of  Dorris  and  her  sweet- faced  mother.  They  read  to  her,  rowed 


164  WICKED   CITY. 

her  about  on  the  waters  of  the  beautiful  stream,  fished,  also  enjoyed 
hammocks,  and  rustic  seats  on  the  green  bank,  sometimes  staying 
to  tea,  after  which  they  would  repair  to  the  piano  in  the  tastily 
furnished  parlor  and  listen  to  her  soul-stirring  music.  Robert 
and  Gordon,  both  having  fair  voices,  sometimes  joined  in,  so  the 
hours  passed  very  pleasantly.  Nothing  was  said  to  the  ladies  about 
the  loss  of  the  clock,  but  they  noticed  Gordon's  voice  did  not  seem 
so  cheerful,  firm  and  hopeful  as  usual.  They  also  noted  that  his 
face  was  pale  and  troubled.  But  the  cause  was  not  explained 
to  either,  until  one  day  Mrs.  Waite's  eye  happened  to  fall  on  the 
"Personal"  he  had  inserted. 


WICKED   CITY.  166 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

A  STRANGE  CLOCK— DEATH- AND  WILL. 

Mrs.  Waite's  face  turned  whiter  than  that  of  Gordon's  who 
was  sitting  near.  He  noted  her  agitation  and  seeing  the  paper  she 
held  in  her  hand,  surn^ised  the  truth.  He  bowed  his  head  in  guilty 
attitude  and  was  silent.  Why  was  she  so  agitated  and  why  was  it 
she  looked  at  Gordon's  bowed  head  with  such  sorrowful,  compas- 
sionate eyes?  Only  she  knew.  It  was  a  secret  that  embittered  her 
whole  life.  Robert  and  Dorris,  who  had  been  playing  chess  in  the 
alcove,  now  arose  and,  excusing  themselves,  sauntered  out  to  the 
old  swing,  Dorris  inviting  Gordon  also  with  her  eyes  as  she 
glanced  back;  but  for  once  he  did  not  see  them,  a  horrible  struggle 
was  going  on  within  him.  At  last,  lifting  his  head  and  seeing  that 
they  were  alone,  Mrs.  Waite  and  he,  he  arose.  Glancing  out  of  the 
window,  he  saw  Dorris  and  Robert  enjoying  the  large  swing  like 
two  happy  children.  There  was  no  chance  of  being  overheard. 
Drawing  a  chair  near,  he  opened  the  subject  with  set  lips  and 
drawn  features. 

"Madam,  I  see  you  have  noticed  the  ad.  I  inserted  in  the  faint 
hope  that  I  would  obtain  some  clue  to  this  twice-stolen  time- 
piece." 

"Yes,  my  dear  boy,  I  have  noticed  it;  and  another  thing  I 
have  also  noticed  is  that  you  are  worrying  your  life  out  over  the 
loss  of  it." 

"Oh,  why  will  you  and  Robert  misunderstand  me  so?  Believe 
me,  dear  madam,  it  is  not  the  value  of  the  clock  in  itself  or  the 
lands  it  might  make  me  master  of,  for  I  assure  you  it  is  only  a 
little  drop  in  the  great  sea  compared  to  that  which  I  will  lose 
if  it  is  not  restored  to  me." 

"And  Gordon,  that  is  what?  Be  candid  with  me.  Look  upon 
me  as  a  mother." 

"A  mother?"  Gordon  started.  "Ah,  that  I  could,  madam.  It  is 
the  dearest  wish  of  my  life  to  some  day  be  able  to  call  you  mother, 
but  the  chance  of  having  that  right  is  forever  lost,  lost  with  the 
clock." 

"And  why  is  this?  Speak  plainly,  I  hardly  follow  you.  You 
mean " 

"Madam,  I  mean  that  with  the  loss  of  this  mysterious  clock 
I  have  lost  all  right  as  an  honorable  man, — I  have  lost  the  proofs 
of  the  right  I  should  have  to  ask  of  you  the  hand  of  your  daughter, 
whom  I  love  with  all  my  heart.  And,  madam,  my  conscience  smites 
me.  I  can  no  more  be  a  guest  under  your  roof,  for  I  know  not 
if  I  have  the  right  to  mingle  with  honest  and  respectable  people 
like  yourself  and  saintly  daughter." 


166 


WICKED  CITY. 


THE   CROOK  SOON   HAD  THE   MYSPERIOUS  CLOCK   IN   HIS  POSSESSION   AND 
MADE  HIS  EXIT  FROM  THE  UNDERGROUND  DEN  TO  THE  STREET  ABOVE. 


WICKED  CITY.  ,  167 

"Gordon,  rest  assured  that  there  is  nothing  you  can  say  that 
will  ever  make  me  think  the  less  of  you,  or  Robert,  either.  I  be- 
lieve you  both  to  be  the  souls  of  honor  and  truth,  and  the  honor 
you  do  me  when  you  say  you  love  my  daughter  is  great  in  itself, 
for  I  know  none  with  so  true  and  noble  a  spirit  as  yours. 
Only,  I  could  not  consider  an  offer  for  her  hand  for  some  time 
to  come." 

"Ah,  madam,  you  do  not  understand  all.  Let  me  finish,  and 
then  you  will  not  repeat  your  last  kind  words  to  me." 

"My  dear  boy,  nothing  can  change  my  sincere  respect  for  your- 
and  your  brother." 

"My  brother — ah,  I  had  forgotten  for  a  moment.  He  loves 
her,  too.  And  for  this  added  reason  I  must  speak  and  tell  you  the 
horrible  truth,  and  I  hope  you  will  forgive  me  for  the  subjects  I 
must  allude  to  in  order  to  put  the  facts  before  you  in  their  awful 
significance." 

Then  in  broken  accents  he  told  her  of  the  death-bed  scene  when 
they  were  nineteen,  and  the  secret  revealed  to  them  by  the  dying 
nurse,  their  plea  to  their  father  to  tell  them  which  one  was  the 
unfortunate  child,  how  the  old  man  answered  all  appeals  with  a  sad 
shake  of  his  gray  head  and  said,  "  'It  is  best  for  you  not  to  know 
till  you  are  men.  You  will  be  better  able  to  look  at  things  in  their 
true  light  then.  It  was  a  matter  of  minor  importance  that  made 
me  so  reckless  when  at  immature  age,  and  my  recklessness  has 
spoiled  my  whole  life  and  the  lives  of  others.  I  love  you  both; 
my  boys,  and  love  you  both  too  well  to  place  a  secret  in  your  hands 
that  you  know  too  much  of  already.  You  shall  have  known  this 
when  I  am  dead,  and  your  accusing  eyes  can  not  reach  me  in  the 
eternal  hell  I  have  so  well  fitted  myself  for  by  this  one  act  of  my 
reckless  youth.  I  did  not  expect  to  die  till  you  were  men  grown, 
but  I  shall  never  see  that  day.  This  humiliation  will  shorten  my 
days.'  'We  still  love  you,  dear  father,'  we  said.  'I  know  you  love 
me,  but  not  as  before.  I  cannot  bear  the  accusing  look  in  your! 
eyes.'  'When  shall  'we  know?'  we  asked  him.  After  a  moment's 
thought  he  answered,  'You  shall  know  five  years  from  this  day. 
Yes,  on  the  day  of  May  18th  of  that  year,  you  shall  know,  but  not 
until  then,  I  swear.  I  will  not  add  another  wrong  to  the  one  I 
have  already  done  you,  for  it  would  be  wrong  to  tell  you  until  you 
are  men.  Until  then,  try  to  think  as  kindly  of  your  poor  old  father 
as  you  can  under  the  existing  circumstances.'  'But,'  we  replied 
'suppose  you  die  before  that  time,  how  are  we  to  know?'  He  replied 
that  he  had  thought  of  this  contingency  and  would  prepare  a  means 
by  which  he  could  tell  us  even  after  death,  and  still  intnust  the  secret 
to  no  living  being.  This  greatly  puzzled  us,  but  we  had  to  be  con- 
tent, for  he  would  say  no  more,  only  he  told  us  one  day  that  he 
loved  us  both,  and  had  provided  for  us  in  his  will.  The  property  was 
entailed  and  it  would  have  to  go  to  the  legitimate  son,  but  a  sum 
of  money  equal  the  value  of  the  property  would  be  left  the  other. 
Then,  for  almost  two  years,  we  saw  very  little  of  him.  He  seemed 
to  shun  the  world.  His  lawyers  and  some  mysterious  foreign  work- 


168  WICKED  CITY. 

men  were  the  only  ones  that  he  was  ever  at  home  to.  He  courted 
seclusion  from  us  to  such  a  degree  as  to  step  in  a  door-way  until 
we  had  passed  him,  as  we  sometimes  met  him  in  the  hall.  Old  Giles 
served  his  master's  meals  in  a  newly  improvised  work-room  where 
he  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  time,  working  on  the  clock  that  holds 
the  secret  of  our  birth  I  suppose.  Shortly  after  this  was  finished 
he  began  failing.  When  we  would  occasionally  catch  a  glimpse  of 
him,  we  noticed  that  his  form  was  bent  and  thin,  his  face  was 
bloodless,  his  hair,  formerly  gray,  was  white  as  the  driven  snow,  his 
eyes  looked  so  longing  and  full  of  pain  that  I  one  day  approached 
him,  but  he  shambled  hurriedly  along  and  disappeared  in  his  room, 
and  thus  he  avoided  us,  until  one  day  Giles  informed  us  that  his 
master  was  unable  to  rise.  We  hastened  to  his  bedside,  but  he  lay 
with  his  face  from  us,  breathing  heavily,  as  if  in  great  pain.  The 
family  physician  was  summoned  at  once,  but  he  could  not  diagnose 
his  case.  There  was  no  disease  responsible  for  his  condition,  but  we 
thought  it  might  be  a  disease  of  the  mind.  Anyway,  he  grew 
weaker  and  weaker.  The  doctor  visited  him  every  day  and  his 
lawyers  quite  often.  Then  they  sent  for  you  in  regard  to  the  docu- 
ments your  late  husband  held.  Then,  he  died  while  we  were  kneel- 
ing at  the  bed  he  lay  upon  with  averted  eyes.  We  beseeched  him 
to  look  at  us,  told  him  that  we  loved  him  and  that  if  he  imagined 
we  had  anything  to  forgive  him  for  that  we  freely  forgave  him. 
Then  he  replied  in  a  voice  so  weak  as  to  sound  far  away,  'You 
never  can,  I  love  you  both,  the  clock  will  tell  which  one  shall  despise 
me  the  most  when  I  am  gone.  The  worms  will  soon  be  eating  my 
miserable  body,  but  the  great  clock  will  live  on — on — on  forever.' 
He  feebly  pressed  our  hands,  but  did  not  once  look  at  us,  neither 
did  we  see  his  eyes  in  death,  for  when  the  end  came,  which  it  did 
just  as  the  gray  of  morning  showed  through  the  curtains  and  tht 
chimes  of  the  wonderful  clock  tolled  the  hour  of  four,  there  was  a 
convulsion  of  the  body  that  twisted  the  bedclothes,  then  a  rattling 
sound  issued  from  his  throat,  the  thin  hands  stiffene_d  in  ours,  and 
when  we  gently  released  them,  we  found  that  he  was  dead,  with  his 
face  buried  in  the  pillow." 

There  were  tears  in  the  good  lady's  eyes  as  he  ceased  speaking 
for  a  moment  and  there  was  a  noticeable  huskiness  in  his  throat 
when  he  again  continued. 

"He  had  made  a  strange  request  of  the  doctor,  Giles  and  the 
lawyers,  which  they  reluctantly  carried  out  as  he  wished,  and  that 
was  to  be  buried  face  down.  Then,  when  all  was  over,  the  will  wa.» 
read,  bequeathing  all  lands,  properties  and  incomes  to  the  legitimate 
son,  while  the  illegitimate  son  was  to  have  the  clock  alone.  This 
did  not  seem  to  correspond  with  what  he  had  told  us,  but  we  were 
so  grieved  at  his  singular  death  that  we  did  not  make  comment  on 
it  at  this  time.  Then  after  a  long  list  of  instructions  and  a  gener- 
ous sum  bequeathed  to  old  Giles,  his  faithful  servant,  he  stated  that 
the  clock  was  so  constructed  as  to  give  up  the  secret  as  to  who 
was  the  legitimate  son  and  heir  on  the  day  of  May  18th,  18—. 
The  clock  was  manufactured  to  run  three  years  without  winding 


WICKED  CITY.  169 

When  the  three  years  were  up  the  secret  it  held  would  be  divulged. 
It  was  to  be  wound  every  three  months  from  that  time  on,  then  at 
the  expiration  of  the  first  three  months  another  secret  would  be 
divulged,  but  what  this  other  secret  is,  I  cannot  imagine." 

"You  say  the  clock  still  held  another  secret?"  Mrs.  Waite's 
face  was  ashen  white. 

"Yes,  so  the  will  reads.  We  have  that  to  go  by  only.  The 
will  closed  with  an  order  to  the  lawyers  for  a  cash  sum  of  money 
which  we  were  to  use  as  suited  us  during  the  three  years.  I  have 
managed  well,  but  have  very  little  of  my  share  left.  The  thousand 
dollars  I  have  offered  as  a  reward  is  all  with  a  small  exception.  I 
told  you  about  the  clock  being  stolen  from  the  lawyer's  vault." 

"Yes,  Gordon,  I  believe  you  did." 

"Well,  after  regaining  possession  of  it,  I  kept  it  at  our  home 
in  London,  from  which  place  it  was  lately  stolen.  I  have  heard 
from  the  lawyers  there  and  have  given  them  instructions  to  offer 
$1,000  reward  and  more,  if  they  will  be  responsible  for  the  sum 
whatever  it  is  above  that  figure,  but  I  have  little  faith  in  any  good 
resulting  from  it,  as  I  think  the  thief  or  thieves  have  demolished 
it  for  the  jewels  and  gold  ornaments  with  which  it  was  profusely 
and  most  magnificently  decked.  Now  that  you  know  all,  my  dear 
madam,  can  you  still  repeat  the  words  of  a  moment  ago?" 

"Yes,  indeed,  Gordon,  and  with  more  earnestness  than  before, 
for  you  have  proved  yourself  a  gentleman,  legitimate  son  or  not. 
You  have  imparted  to  me  that  which  has,  I  can  see,  cost  you  great 
effort,  but  you  did  right.  God  bless  you  for  it." 

"Thank  you,  madam,  for  your  interest  and  good  will.  This 
was  a  duty  I  owed  to  you.  I  have  discharged  it.  It  should  require 
no  praise,  and  the _ fact  alone  that  you  will  still  tolerate  me  as  a 
guest  once  in  a  while  is  more  than  I  can  expect." 

"Believe  me,  Gordon,  you  will  always  find  a  warm  welcome 
here  in  our  little  home,  whenever  you  care  to  honor  it  with  your 
presence." 

"Again,  I  thank  you,  madam.     You  are  too  kind." 

Warm-hearted  tears  sprang  to  the  eyes  of  both  during  a  moment 
of  silence.  Then  he  arose  with  a  sisrh  of  relief,  as  though  this  unbur- 
dening of  the  secret  had  relieved  him,  as  indeed  it  had,  for  he  felt 
that  he  had  always  owed  her  this  duty.  Things  took  on  a  brighter 
look  and  as  the  silvery  voice  of  the  one  he  loved  so  fondly  floated  in 
at  the  open  window,  he  wondered  whv  he  had  before  been  so  gloomy 
and  melancholy.  So,  with  new  warmth  in  his  heart  and  light  in  his 
eyes  he  joined  Robert  and  Dorris  who  were  at  this  moment  calling 
him. 

"I  cannot  see  what,  you  and  dear  mamma  can  find  so  interest- 
ing to  talk  about  all  this  time.  Well,  you  look  better  for  it,  any- 
way. This  is  the  first  time  I  have  seen  you  smile  today." 

"Yes,  your  mother  is  a  very  interesting  conversationalist.  I 
enjoy  hearing  her  talk  very  much.  You  will  excuse  me,  I  hope,  as 
I  must  take  my  departure  for  the  city  as  I  have  important  business 
matters  to  see  to.  Oh,  you  need  not  look  so  downcast.  I'm  not 


170  WICKED  CITY. 

going  to  take  Mr.  Robert  with  me,  for  you  seem  to  be  enjoying 
yourselves  so  well  together.  You  are  like  a  couple  of  children  in 
that  big  swing." 

"Well,  there  is  room  for  another,  Mr.  Long,  if  you  will  only 
stay." 

"No,  thank  you,  I  must  go.  You  know  the  old  adage,  'Business 
before  pleasure,'  so  I'm  off.  Good-by." 

A  WICKED  TRICK  OF  THE  "WICKED  CITY." 

Some  time  later  he  was  at  his  quarters,  eagerly  inquiring  for 
news.  His  valet  handed  him  a  dispatch  and  a  letter.  He  opened 
the  dispatch  first.  It  was  from  the  lawyers  in  London.  "No  news. 
Have  offered  $4,000  reward.  Make  the  same  offer  there." 

He  next  gave  his  attention  to  the  letter.  It  was  a  dirty, 
crumpled  affair  and  directed  in  print.  Reading  the  few  lines  in- 
closed, which  were  also  in  print,  cut  from  a  newspaper,  his  eyes 
danced  and  he  could  have  shouted  he  was  so  overjoyed. 

The  contents  were  as  follows: 

"Mister  Long,  come  to  the  lake  front  near  the  statue  on  the 
12th,  at  10  p.  m.  Bring  the  money.  Have  got  the  clock.  No 
money,  no  clock." 

"Let  me  see,  what  day  is  this?  Why,  the  12th,  to  be  sure.  It  is 
to-night,"  he  mused. 

The  first  spasm  of  joy  had  passed  and  he  was  now  more  calm. 
Then  did  he  realize  that  it  might  be  a  scheme  to  rob  him. 

"Well,  I  will  go  prepared  at  any  rate.  Jarl,  get  my  pistols 
in  shape." 

"Both  of  them,  master?" 

"Yes,  both  of  them.  Put  yours  in  shape  also,  and  be  prepared 
to  accompany  me  at  9 :30  to-night.  Just  wear  your  rough-and- 
tumble  clothes,  for  you  might  have  to  carry  a  load  home  of  some 
kind." 

"All  right,  master  Gordon,  I  will  have  things  in  shape  and  be  on 
time." 


"Jarl,"  as  his  master  called  him,  was  a  boy  from  off  the  streets 
of  New  York.  He  had  met  him  in  a  peculiar  way.  While  visiting 
the  "Bowery"  one  night  to  see  the  darker  side  of  New  York  life 
he  was  set  upon  by  two  footpads  and  was  fast  being  worsted 
although  he  fought  desperately,  when  of  a  sudden,  they  broke  and 
ran.  Gordon  could  hardly  understand  this  for  there  was  not  a 
policeman  in  sight  or  anyone  else  in  this  particular  spot.  "Here 
Mister,  is  yer  hat."  Turning  around,  he  espied  a  typical  "Bowery" 
boy.  "Kind  o-givin'  ye  de  wust  o'  it,  eh,  Guvn'r?" 

"Yes,  rather,  but  what  gets  me  is  why  did  they  give  up  so 
quickly?  They  had  me  about  winded." 

"Well.  I'm  de  guy  wot  fixed  it  up  for  youse.  Y*  see,  wen  I 
dropped  along  I  seed  yer  gettin  de  wust  o'  it.  I  jes  sez  kinder  low 


WICKED  CITY.  171 

like  t'  one  of  'em,  'Lam,  ye  duffer,  de  elbows  are  on  de  rubber.' 
Dey  took  de  office  and  blowed.  See?" 

"Yes,  I  see;  and  you  have  done  me  quite  a  service,  my  boy. 
What  can  I  do  for  you  in  return?" 

"Ah,  dat's  all  right.  Didn't  cost  me  nothin'.  But  say,  Boss, 
I  'ud  like  t'  git  ofen  dis  'ere  bowery.  It's  gitten  on  de  pork.  Youse 
don't  know  weare  I  cud  git  a  sit  at  somethin'  honest,  does  ye?" 

"Yes,  I  need  just  such  a  boy  as  you.  Come  with  me."  And  so 
it  was  that  Gordon  got  a  good  valet  who  was  wide-awake,  clever  and 
nervy.  This  was  some  time  ago.  He  was  a  man  now  and  a  man 
who  looked  out  for  his  master's  interests  and  could  be  trusted  im- 
plicitly. 


Gordon  was  so  excited  and  pleased  over  the  prospects  of  recov- 
ering the  clock  he  could  hardly  eat.  Later,  he  made  his  way  to 
Robert's  hotel  and  sent  his  card  up.  After  a  wait  of  five  minutes, 
he  was  ushered  up  by  the  bell-boy.  Robert  was  sitting  by  the  win- 
dow and  greeted  Gordon  coldly. 

"Robert,  I  have  got  the  best  of  news  for  you.     Read  this." 

Robert  read  it,  then  re-read  it,  thinking  rapidly  the  while. 

"What  do  you  think  of  that?" 

"Well,  if  you  want  to  know  what  I  think,  I  think  you  would  be 
foolishly  risking  your  life  to  go." 

Robert,  of  course,  knew  at  once  that  it  was  a  put-up  job  to  rob 
his  brother,  one  of  the  wicked  tricks  of  this  wicked  city,  so  urged 
him  not  to  go,  not  that  he  cared  much  for  Gordon,  he  did  not  wish 
him  to  lose  the  money.  But  Gordon  was  obdurate ;  he  would  go. 

"Well,  you  can  go.  I  won't  go  with  you.  So  if  you  get  'bent 
up'  and  robbed,  don't  blame  me.  I  warned  you,  remember." 

"Well,  good-night.  I  will  take  Jarl  with  me,  so  don't  worry. 
I  will  come  and  let  you  know  if  I  get  it." 

"You  are  more  likely  to  get  a  broken  head.  You  had  better  take 
my  advice  and  stay  away.  You  won't?  Well,  look  out  for  yourself. 
Remember,  this  is  not  London.  They  do  things  bolder  than  that 
here  in  broad  daylight.  Well,  gopd-by.  I  may  stroll  around  that 
way  about  ten.  That  is  the  hour,  is  it  not?" 

"Yes,  that  is  the  hour;  but  don't  put  yourself  out  if  you  have 
anything  else  that  requires  your  attention  which  is  of  more  impor- 
tance." 

There  was  a  hurt  ring  in  Gordon's  voice  as  he  said  this  and 
made  his  way  out.  He  could  not  see  why  Robert  did  not  take  more 
interest  in  it;  but,  in  his  kind-hearted  way,  he  made  allowance  for 
his  brother,  explaining  it  to  himself  as  he  strode  along1. 

"He  thinks  that  he  is  to  be  the  unfortunate  one  and  this  mor- 
bid fancy  has  taken  such  a  hold  of  him  that  he  accepts  it  as  a  fact, 
so  I  could  not  expect  him  to  take  the  same  interest  in  it  that  I  do. 
But  then,  if  he  thought  I  was  to  be  in  danger  to-night,  why  would 
he  not  accompany  me?  As  a  boy,  he  was  always  at  the  front, 
fighting  my  battles.  He  must  have  had  an  engagement  to  play 


178  WICKED  CITY. 

poker.    Oh,  well,  time  has  changed  many  things.    He  thinks  more 
of  a  hand  at  poker  now  than  he  does  of  my  safety." 

Arriving  at  the  hotel,  he  told  Jarl  to  go  out  to  the  lake  front 
and  hurry  around  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  statue. 

"Now,  don't  make  a  noise  of  any  kind  until  I  give  you  a  sig- 
nal, then  come  to  me  at  once ;  you  will  see  what  is  to  be  done." 
"All  right,  master,  I  will  be  on  deck." 

It  was  now  9 :  30  p.  m.  Sending  Jarl  ahead,  he  followed,  cross- 
ing Michigan  avenue  and  striking  the  lake  front  near  the  statue 
which  looked  gloomy  and  foreboding.  A  figure  could  be  seen 
crouching  at  the  base  of  it,  in  the  somber  shadows,  while  another 
could  be  perceived  approaching  from  out  the  mist  which  enveloped 
everything.  Smelling  foul  play,  he  was  on  his  guard.  Was  his 
man  on  the  other  side  of  the  towering  figure  or  was  this  the 
approaching  valet?  He  was  inclined  to  think  so  as  he  drew 
nearer,  for  there  was  something  familiar  in  the  walk.  So,  with 
renewed  confidence,  Gordon  walked  rapidly  on  with  quick  energetic 
strides  which  brought  him  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  proposed  meet- 
ing place.  His  heart  beat  high  with  hope  at  what  he  saw  as  he 
reached  it,  for  there  was  a  large  sized  bundle  on  the  ground  and 
near  by  stood  what  appeared  to  be  a  day  laborer. 

Addressing  him,  Gordon  inquired  if  he  was  the  one  that  had 
answered  the  "Personal"  in  the  Journal.     The  man,  who  was  well 
built  but  short  of  stature,  shot  a  quick  glance  into  his  questioner's 
face,  then  ran  eyes  up  and  down   Gordon's  figure  as  if  he  were 
mentally  calculating  his  strength  before  he  made  reply. 
"Yes,  I'm  de  one.     Have  you  got  de  money?" 
"Yes.  I  have  the  money.    Have  you  the  clock  ?" 
"Yes,  I  got  it,  and  hard  work  I  had  gettin'  it,  too." 
Gordon    glanced    around    at  the  bundle   in  the   shadow.    "Is 
that  it?" 

"Yes;  dat's  it,  but  y'  don't  get  it  till  I  gets  de  coin.     See?" 
"That  is  fair,  but  of  course  you  will  let  me  satisfy  myself  that 
it  is  really  the  clock  I  advertised  for,  will  you  not?" 
"Yes,  but  I  must  see  de  color  of  yer  coin  first." 
Gordon  was  taken  off  his  guard,  and  being  assured  that  the 
clock  was   found,  he  could  hardly  conceal  his  eagerness.     As   he 
pulled  a  long  English  bill-book  from  his  inside  pocket  and  showed 
the  supposed  laborer  the  contents,  the  greedy  eyes  peered  out  from 
under  the  workingman's  cap  and  inspected  it  closely. 

"Dat's  all  right.  I  guess  yer  on  de  square  and  yuse  can  take 
a  look  at  it.  You'll  find  it  a  pretty  lively  machine." 

And  so  he  did.  When  Gordon  approached  the  supposed  clock 
close  under  the  shadow  of  the  towering  statue,  he  thanked  God  for 
again  placing  it  in  his  care;  then  he  bent  forward,  but  his  eager 
hands  had  hardly  touched  the  huddled  up  mass  at  his  feet  when 
they  were  grasped  at  the  wrists  in  a  vice-like  grip,  and^the  supposed 
clock  sprang  to  life,  materializing  into  a  strong,  athletic  figure  of  a 
man,  who  cried  out:  "Here,  pal,  cop  de  leather  and  blow.  I  see 
some  guy  on  de  rubber.  Hurry  up!" 


WICKED   CITY.  178 

But  his  "pal,"  as  he  was  designated,  required  no  urging.  He 
already  had  one  of  his  strong  arms  around  Gordon's  neck  in  such 
a  manner  as  to  press  on  his  windpipe,  choking  and  depriving  him 
of  speech;  while  with  the  disengaged  hand,  he  extracted  the  leather 
book.  Gordon  struggled,  wrenched  and  twisted,  but  of  no  avail. 
Taken  at  a  disadvantage,  he  was  like  a  feather  in  the  hands  of  these 
men  who  seemed  to  understand  their  business  well. 

THE  BOWERY  AGAINST  THE  LEVEE. 

He  tried  to  cry  out  for  help,  but  it  was  an  effort  which  only 
caused  him  to  smother  and  gag.  He  could  not  give  the  signal 
agreed  upon  to  warn  his  man,  Jarl.  Then  it  was  for  the  first  time 
in  his  life  that  he  felt  what  it  was  to  be  wholly  in  the  power  of 
another.  He  continued  struggling,  but  only  succeeded  in  tearing  up 
the  turf  with  his  feet.  Again  the  man  of  the  sack  addressed  the 
other. 

"Have  ye  got  it?" 

"An  course  I  got  it.    Tink  I'm  asleep?" 

"No,  but  I  tink  we'd  better  put  dis  guy  to  sleep  if  we're  goin' 
to  make  our  git-away,  cos  he's  kinder  troublesome." 

"No,  nix,  let  'im  holler.  He's  too  weak  t'  do  anything  else 
but  holler  an'  won't  be  able  t'  holler  very  loud  at  that,  fer  I'll  jes 
take  anuther  twist  on  his  pipes.  He's  about — " 

The  words  were  never  finished,  for  two  heavy  boots  belonging 
to  a  litthe  body  which  had  dropped  from  a  projection  at  the  side  of 
the  statue  struck  him  square  in  the  face  and  he  was  carried  to  the 
earth.  The  other  turned  to  make  his  escape.  Gordon,  thus  released, 
fell  exhausted  on  his  knees,  then  struggled  manfully  to  rise,  but  of 
no  avail.  He  was  too  weak.  On  his  hands  and  knees,  he  crawled 
to  where  Jarl  was  struggling  with  his  late  assailant  who  was  curs- 
ing fearfully.  Robber  number  two  did  not  run  far,  for  on  seeing 
that  there  was  only  one  man  in  plain  clothes  and  not  a  posse  of 
blue-coats,  as  he  expected,  he  rapidly  retraced  his  steps  and  made 
a  savage  lunge  at  Jarl  with  the  butt  of  a  large  revolver;  but  his 
arm  was  caught  in  the  weak  grasp  of  Gordon  just  as  it  was  about 
to  fall.  Then  there  was  a  weak  struggle,  followed  by  a  blow  from 
the  weapon  which  stretched  Gordon  almost  lifeless  upon  the  ground. 

"Dat's  what  I  otter  done  in  de  lead-off.  Dis  is  wot  ye  gits 
wen  yer  easy  wid  a  mark."  Again  he  advanced  toward  Jarl  with 
murder  in  his  eyes.  He  raised  the  weapon  the  second  time,  but 
again  it  failed  to  descend,  for  a  shadowy  figure  that  had  been  hov- 
ering near  ran  up  behind  in  a  steathily  manner  and  threw  one  of 
its  arms  around  the  neck  and  under  the  chin  of  the  robber  in  the 
very  same  manner  that  his  "pal"  had  handled  Gordon.  With  the 
other  he  reached  over  and  set  his  vice-like  fingers  on  his  wrist. 
There  was  a  cry  of  pain  and  the  fingers  that  clutched  the  weapon 
relaxed,  letting  it  fall  to  the  ground.  There  was  another  bitter 
struggle.  Then  robber  number  two  lay  an  unconscious  heap  ^on 
the  damp  ground.  The  new  comer  who  knew  the  "garroter's"  trick 


174  WICKED  CITY. 

so  well  was  Robert,  in  a  knock-about  suit  and  in  his  usual  disguise. 
He  glanced  at  his  brother's  upturned  face.  It  was  bleeding  freely, 
so  he  gave  him  a  roll  with  his  foot  which  brought  his  face  down- 
ward, allowing  the  blood  to  soak  into  the  earth,  instead  of  standing 
as  before  in  stagnant  pools  around  the  eyelids.  Robert  then  turned 
his  attention  to  Jarl  and  the  robber  number  one,  who  was  making 
a  desperate  resistance.  The  boot  heels  had  struck  his  face  in  such 
a  manner  as  to  leave  a  flap  of  the  skin  hanging  over  the  thug's  eyes, 
obscuring  their  vision  entirely.  Even  with  this  disadvantage,  he 
was  holding  his  own  well,  and  making  a  desperate  fight.  They  had 
rolled  over  and  over,  now  one  on  top  and  then  the  other.  They 
were  fighting  like  wild  beasts,  keeping  each  others  hands  too  busy 
to  allow  the  use  of  a  weapon.  It  was  an  awful  battle.  Their 
heavy  breathing  and  loud  curses  were  drowned  by  the  churning  of 
the  lake,  mingled  with  the  rumble  and  roll  of  wheels  along  the 
near-by  boulevard.  Jarl's  early  bowery  education  stood  him  well 
in  hand  now,  and  he  used  every  scientific  art  at  his  command  in  his 
endeavor  to  overpower  his  antagonist,  but  without  success,  other 
than  to  keep  him  too  busy  to  use  his  weapon  or  get  away.  Robert 
could  not  tell  which  one  was  Gordon's  man,  Jarl.  About  all  he 
could  see  were  four  legs  being  thrown  about  in  every  direction  with 
such  rapidity  as  to  look  like  a  dozen  pairs.  The  bodies  were  writh- 
ing and  twisting  and  for  faces,  once  in  awhile  he  could  just  discern 
two  patches  of  white  streaked  with  blood.  He  examined  the  other 
two  forms  on  the  ground,  apparently  dead. 

"Well,  they  are  taking  a  pretty  long  nap,  although  I  see  one 
is  now  stirring  slightly.  Guess  I  will  give  him  a  little  more  "bro- 
midia."  The  "bromidia"  consisted  of  a  blow  on  the  chin,  causing 
his  jaws  to  snap  together.  The  lower  one  fell,  while  his  eyes  flew 
open  only  to  remain  in  a  fixed  stare  like  death. 

"Ah,  that  is  the  ticket,  my  boy,"  he 'coolly  muttered.  "Now  let 
me  see  what  you  have  got  in  your  clothes."  Stooping,  he  examined 
every  pocket,  but  his  search  resulted  in  nothing  but  a  bunch  of 
skeleton  keys.  Placing  the  keys  in  his  own  pocket,  he  then  went 
through  Gordon's  clothes,  but  only  found  some  letters  and  a  few 
dollars  in  change.  These  he  replaced. 

"Well,  I  wish  he'd  wake  up  and  go  home  and  sleep.  It  would 
be  safer.  I  told  him  not  to  come  out  here."  He  hesitated  and 
looked  down  at  him  thoughtfully.  "Ah,  I  could  kill  him  as  he  lies 
there,  completely  at  my  mercy.  I  could  kill  them  all  for  that  tmt- 
ter.  Why  is  it  that  I  feel  such  a  hankering  after  blood?"  He 
glanced  about,  but  could  see  no  one  in  the  mist  and  gloom  that 
had  settled  around  them,  except  the  battling  figures  a  short  dis- 
tance to  the  left.  Again  turning  his  attention  to  them,  he  ejacu- 
lated, "Well,  well,  I  thought  they  would  both  be  ready  for  the  coi- 
oner  by  this  time,  but  they  seem  as  fresh  as  ever.  Ye  gods,  how 
they  bleed !  Blood !  blood !  everywhere."  The  great  statue 
frowned  down  on  the  sickening  scene.  The  breathing  was  getting 
heavier  and  louder,  the  cursing  was  getting  fainter,  then  a  still 
weaker  voice  cried  out : 


WICKED  CITY.  175 

"Master,  I  have  done  my  duty.     I  die.     God  help  me." 

This  last  sentence  seemed  to  raise  the  fury  in  Robert.  "You 
call  on  God,  man !  Why  don't  you  call  on  man  ?  Man  is  nearer. 
Which  one  of  you  call  on  God?"  But  the  answer  so  faint  was 
again  drowned  by  the  curses,  then  a  sound  of  gurgling  and  choking 
followed.  Robert  thought  this  was  the  end. 

"Well,  I  guess  one  of  them  is  going  to  find  out  if  there  is  a 
God  or  not  by  the  sound  of  that  rattle  which  suggests  'cold  meat' 
for  the  devil  to  warm  over."  But  no,  they  still  fought  on.  The 
thug  was  now  on  top.  Stepping  nearer  to  them,  Robert  gave  him 
a  sledge  hammer  blow  which  sent  him  flying  from  off  the  man 
below,  but  still  did  not  have  the  effect  he  had  anticipated.  After 
a  moment's  laborious  breathing,  both  of  the  blood-stained  men 
struggled  to  their  feet  again  and  found  their  way  to  each  others 
throats. 

"Well,  I  never  did  see  anything  like  that !  These  Americans  are 
all  grit.  It's  a  'bowery'  boy  against  a  'levee'  boy.  I  would  just  like 
to  see  which  one  wins  the  fight.  The  one  that  curses  and  calls  on 
the  devil  or  the  one  that  calls  on  God.  I  think  the  one  that  calls 
on  God  is  Gordon's  pupil  that  he  picked  up  on  the  Bowery.  Well, 
he  hasn't  forgotten  how  to  scrap  yet,  for  he  didn't  learn  that  out  of 
his  Bible,  I'll  warrant  you.  Ah,  there  goes  one  of  them  to  grass 
now.  No,  by  jove!  he  is  up  again,  and  they  are  at  it  once  more.  It 
makes  me  think  of  old  Patch's  bulldogs." 

It  was  but  a  moment,  though,  before  they  were  both  rolling  on 
the  blood-soaked  ground.  The  curses  that  so  continually  rent  the 
air  while  the  combat  was  in  progress  now  ceased  entirely,  which 
gave  the  spectator,  who  watched  and  waited  for  the  issue  with  such 
cold-blooded  coolness,  the  impression  that  the  blasphemer  who  had 
called  on  the  devil  was  vanquished.  It  did  not  seem  to  please  him 
that  right  had  apparently  won  over  wrong.  The  black  clouds  which 
had  gathered  overhead  began  to  shed  rain  which  fell  in  large  drops. 

The  four  forms  were  now  lying  motionless  on  the  blood-soaked 
turf.  The  rain  increased  and  mingled  with  it,  forming  little  rivu- 
lets which  forced  their  way  around  the  base  of  the  statue  while 
they  met  to  form  one  large  pool,  a  combination  of  good  and  evil 
blood,  joined  together  by  the  tears  of  heaven.  The  same  that 
revived  the  drooping  blades  of  grass,  pressed  by  heavy  feet,  also 
revived  the  four  forms  and  stirred  them  into  new  life. 

Robert  had  grasped  the  limbs  of  one  of  the  two  forms  he  had 
likened  to  bulldogs  and  was  endeavoring  to  pull  them  apart;  but 
they  held  on  in  true  bulldog  fashion.  He  exerted  all  his  mighty 
strength,  but  the  other  form  was  dragged  along  with  the  first.  He 
stopped  to  ascertain  the  cause.  Then  did  he  see  the  reason  for 
the  sudden  discontinuance  of  profanity;  and  the  calling  on  his  mas- 
ter and  his  God.  One  had  his  teeth  set  in  the  fleshy  part  of  the 
others  throat,  while  he,  in  turn,  had  his  set  firmly  and  deeply  into 
his  opponent's  thick  ear,  and  thus  they  hung  together.  Every  effort 
to  pull  them  apart  was  in  vain. 


176  WICKED  CITY. 

"Well,  they  are  tougher  than  English  beef!  I'll  fix  them, 
though." 

He  took  one  of  the  revolvers  and  tried  to  insert  the  long  muz- 
zle between  the  teeth  that  were  sunken  in  the  neck.  It  proved  too 
large.  He  set  his  foot  between  the  two  men.  This  was  also  useless. 
Then,  losing  all  patience,  he  grasped  the  thick  neck  of  one  with 
both  hands,  pressed  strong  fingers  around  it  and  succeeded  in  choi<- 
ing  him  into  insensibility.  Even  then  he  had  to  pry  his  teeth  open 
to  release  the  throat  from  their  death-like  grip.  Taking  the  other 
by  the  limbs,  he  gave  him  a  quick  jerk,  accompanied  by  a  dextrous 
twist.  They  were  separated,  but  the  teeth  of  the  robber  (as  this 
one  proved  to  be)  shut  with  a  snap  like  a  steel-trap  as  they  were 
torn  from  the  ear,  bringing  with  them  skin  and  flesh  which  he 
chewed  and  swallowed,  then  commenced  to  curse. 

"Oh,  I  wish  as  dat  wer  his  heart,  it  ud  taste  better,  d —  'ini. 
I'll  yet  make  a  meal  off'n  his  heart  and  wash  it  down  with  his 
blood.  I'll  learn  'im  to  rubber  around  an'  jump  off'n  statues  onter 
me  face.  I'll  have  his —  Wot  yer  doin'?  Is  dat  you,  pal?" 

Robert  had  pulled  him  some  distance  from  the  other  to  prevent 
them  from  getting  together  again,  for  he  was  stirring  and  making 
a  strong  effort  to  regain  his  feet. 

"No,  this  is  not  your  pal.  Your  pal  is  taking  a  nap  over  there 
alongside  the  cove  he  touched  up  for  the  'leather.'  If  you  will  be 
a  good  fellow  now  and  get  next  to  yourself,  I  will  see  you  out  of 
this." 

"Be  you  one  of  de  boys?"  the  thug  inquired. 

"Yes,  pull  yourself  together  a  little  and  'lam.' " 

"Did  I  do  for  de  guy  wot  jumped  off'n  de  statue  on  me  face?" 

"Yes,  I  guess  he  will  never  try  to  imitate  Steve  Brodie  again." 

"Sure,  he  is  done  for.     Sure,  he's  cold  meat." 

"Yes,  I  say.    Now  stow  your  gab  and  'blow.'" 

"No,  not  me,  pardie,  I'll  not  'lam'  and  leave  me  pal." 

"Well,  say  partner,  I  can't  help  admiring  your  grit  and  your 
allegiance  to  your  pal,  but — " 

"Well,  dat's  me  gait.  I  never  gives  me  old  pal  de  short  end 
of  it." 

"Well,  then  you  get  behind  the  statue  over  there,  and  I  will  see 
if  I  can't  get  him  onto  his  pins." 

"Say,  but  yer  a  pretty  good  feller.  Who  are  ye?  I  don't  run 
agin  yer  kind  every  day." 

"There,  stow  your  gab  now  and  get  under  cover  behind  that 
statue.  If  I  give  a  sharp  whistle,  just  blow  for  the  lake  and  cop  a 
rattler  for  the  'patch/  foot  of  the  'black  belt.'  I  may  see  you 
there." 

"But  say,  pard,  got  a  pin?" 

"Yes.     What  do  you  want  with  a  pin?" 

"Coin'  ter  pin  dis  'ere  cursed  skin  up  off'n  me  lamps.  Dat 
guy  pretty  near  made  lace  curtains  out  of  me  mug." 

"Here  is  a  handkerchief;  this  will  be  better." 

Robert  handed  him  a  silk  handkerchief,  one  of  those  belonging 


WICKED   CITY.  171 

to  Gordon  that  he  had  supplied  himself  -with  in  London,  (.an  article 
doomed  to  play  a  tragical  part  with  the  future  of  our  hero,  Gordon) 
and  quickly  made  his  way  back  to  the  others  who  were  fast  being 
revived  by  the  rain,  which  was  now  falling  in  blinding  sheets.  It 
put  him  in  mind  of  his  escape  in  the  rain  and  fog  from  the  Lon- 
don prison.  As  he  drew  near,  he  saw  the  figures  of  two  of  the  men 
(Gordon  and  the  second  robber)  making  a  weak  effort  to  reach  the 
shining  revolver  that  Robert  had  forced  the  thug  to  drop.  It  about 
divided  the  distance  between  them.  They  laid  their  hands  on  it 
simultaneously,  then  there  was  a  struggle,  the  weak  with  the  weak, 
the  good  with  the  evil,  and  so  again  the  blood  of  the  evil  and  the 
good  from  their  steaming  bodies  mingled  with  the  rain,  to  be  carried 
along  in  little  rivulets  to  the  stationary  pool  formed  near  the  feet 
of  the  waiting  robber  who  had  raised  the  hanging  flap  of  skin  and 
bound  it  in  place  ..with  the  handkerchief.  He  was  just  finishing  up 
with  a  wash  in  the  pool  of  rainwater  and  blood  when  he  heard  a 
shot  and  a  curse.  Bounding  over  this,  he  ran  around  the  statue, 
meantime  feeling  for  a  weapo.n.  None.  Then,  like  a  wild  man, 
he  leaped  on.  He  had  heard  the  voice  of  his  pal,  but  it  was  not 
his  pal  that  had  uttered  the  curse.  Robert,  although  he  saw  the 
struggle  between  the  two  men,  had  hastily  stopped  and  searched  the 
pockets  of  Jarl,  who  was  now  showing  faint  signs  of  life,  for  the 
missing  money. 

"Not  there!  Where  can  it  be?"  He  had  searched  them  all. 
The  thug  he  had  searched  during  his  conversation — easily  per- 
formed on  account  of  his  blindness.  "Well,  I  suppose  I  ought  to 
give  Gordon  a  helping  hand  and  break  this  little  entertainment  up." 

With  this  object  in  view,  he  sprang  toward  the  men  who  were 
fighting  desperately.  Gordon,  seeing  what  he  thought  to  be  re- 
inforcements for  his  antagonist  in  the  way  of  his  pal,  exerted  all 
the  force  at  his  command,  tore  the  weapon  from  the  robber's  grasp 
r,nd  leveled  it  at  the  approaching  form'.  There  was  a  sharp  report. 
One  brother  unconsciously  fired  upon  another.  The  bullet  passed 
through  the  fleshy  part  of  Robert's  arm.  Robert  was  an  expert  pis- 
tol shot,  and,  raising  one  of  his  weapons  with  a  loud  curse,  he  sent 
a  bullet  tearing  through  his  brother's  hand,  knocking  the  gun  many 
feet  away.  Then  he  shoved  the  cold  steel  against  the  cheek  of  the 
thug  and  in  a  voice  that  had  only  one  meaning  in  it  ordered  him  to 
throw  up  his  hands.  They  flew  up  like  a  jumoing-jack's,  pulled  by 
a  string.  Gordon  at  once  saw  his  mistake.  He  started  to  explain, 
but  Robert  cut  him  short  and  gruffly  told  him  to  go  and  look  after 
his  man.  He  picked  up  the  gun  with  the  uninjured  hand  and 
started  to  obey,  wondering  who  the  friend  was  that  came  to -his 
assistance,  meeting  with  such  a  poor  reception.  Meantime,  Robert 
was  informing  the  robber  that  his  pal  was  waiting  for  him  on  the 
other  side  of  the  statue,  and  that  they  had  better  get  together  if  he 
hadn't  gone  already  when  the  subject  of  his  remark  bounded  into 
view  out  of  the  gloom  and  cried : 

"Not  on  yer  tintype,  me  friend.    I'm  right  here,  Johnny  at  de 


178  WICKED  CITY. 

rat  hole.  Wot's  de  game  now?  Who's  turning  der  cannons  loose 
out  here?" 

"Well,  I  was  turning  one  of  them  loose,"  Robert  replied,  "and 
I  will  turn  a  couple  more  of  them  loose  in  about  a  minute  if  you 
fellows  don't  'lam.'  The  'elbows'  will  be  down  on  us  and  have 
you  guys  playing  checkers  with  your  noses  at  the  station.  If  they 
do  get  you,  they  will  lock  you  up  and  throw  the  key  away.  That 
face  of  yours  would  get  you  a  ticket  to  Joliet  any  time." 

"Oh,  stow  yer  kiddin'  and  tell  me  wot  ye  got  me  pal's  mits  in 
de  air  fer.  I  tot  yuse  was  me  friend." 

"So  I  am,  because  you  showed  me  that  you  were  the  pure 
article — grit  and  loyalty  and  all  that  'rot,'  you  know.  Now  I  just 
want  to  see  if  you  have  got  good  sense  with  it.  If  you  have,  you 
will  'blow/  and  if  not,  I  will  have  to  use  these  gentle  persuaders 
and  make  you  'blow,'  or  blow  your  thick  heads  off.  See?" 

As  Robert  spoke  in  a  rapid,  quick,  commanding  way1,  he  had 
drawn  another  revolver  with  a  blue  barrel  and  was  rapidly  and  dex- 
trously  twirling  it  around  on  his  trigger  finger. 

"Yer  right,  pal,  de  'elbows'  and  de  blue-coats  '11  be  here  ticker 
dan  flies  round  a  sugar  barrel,  pretty  quick." 

"Twist,  now,"  Robert  urged.  "Here  they  come.  Lively!  Cop 
the  rattlers  and  blow  the  limits." 

A  police  call  could  be  heard  and  dark  forms  began  to  appear 
as  the  two  robbers  broke  and  ran  around  the  statue,  disappearing 
from  view.  With  a  bitter  curse  number  "49"  threw  all  the  guns 
he  had  collected  in  a  heap  on  the  battle  grounds  and  also  disap- 
peared just  as  two  detectives  appeared,  running  like  deer  towards 
Gordon  and  Jarl,  who  were  now  both  on  their  feet.  Jarl,  being 
very  weak,  was  supported  by  his  master. 


Robert,  alias  number  "49,"  made  his  way  to  his  rooms  unob- 
served and  quickly  removed  his  dripping  clothes.  He  then  exam- 
ined his  wound.  It  was  painful,  but  not  serious,  merely  grazing 
the  flesh.  After  washing  and  dressing  it  neatly,  he  retired  and 
enjoyed  a  good  night's  rest.  Such  exciting  scenes  were  food  to 
this  strange  nature,  but  his  dreams  were  of  Dorris,  alone. 

AT  SUNNYSIDE. 

Early  the  following  morning  this  strange  man  again  dressed 
the  wound  in  his  arm  and  was  soon  on  his  way  to  Dorris'  pretty 
home,  accompanying  his  thoughts  of  her  by  humming  a  little  tune 
as  he  strode  along  the  wooded  pathway.  The  morning  was  beauti- 
ful after  the  rain,  and  Dorris,  fresh  and  rosy,  was  feeding  her 
robins,  which  had  increased  to  four  in  number.  He  gazed  at  this 
peaceful  scene  and  could  not  help  but  contrast  it  with  the  scene 
of  the  evening  before  at  the  foot  of  the  great  statue.  He  dofferl 
his  hat  and  stood  at  a  respectful  distance,  careful  not  to  scare  her 


WICKED  CITY.  179 

pets  away.  She  glanced  up  in  surprise  as  she  heard  his  footsteps 
on  the  gravel. 

"Ah,  good  morning,  Mr.  Long,  you  are  out  early?" 

"Yes,  you  know  what  they  say  of  early  bird." 

"Weil,  now,  how  fortunate.  I  have  a  whole  canful  that  little 
Leo,  a  neighbor's  boy,  brought  over  to  me  this  morning  as  he  well 
knows  I  always  go  fishing  after  a  shower.  You  can  have  some  of 
them." 

"Well,  I  will  accept  on  condition  that  you  allow  me  to  accom- 
pany you." 

"Why,  yes,  I  will  be  pleased  to  have  you,  if  you  wish;  but 
remember,  you  will  have  to  bait  my  hook  for  me." 

"It  will  be  a  pleasure,  I  assure  you." 

"Ah,  now  you  have  scared  my  robins  away." 

"I  am  indeed  sorry,  but  then  I  am  sure  they  will  come  back 
again.  They  would  not  desert  their  'lady  bountiful.'  " 

"Why,  Mr.  Long,  I  almost  believe  you  are  trying  to  pay  me  a 
compliment.  I  am  sure  those  poor  little  birds  like  me  for  the 
crumbs  I  throw  them.  I  am  almost  afraid  they  would  desert  me  if 
I  ceased  to  throw  them  a  crumb  once  in  a  while." 

"You  call  them  'poor  little  birds,'  Miss  Waite,  I  envy  them." 

"And  why  so,  Mr.  Long?" 

"Because  you  throw  them  crumbs  in  plenty,  while  to  me  you 
cast  never  a  crumb  that  I  might  pick  up  hope  from." 

"I  hardly   understand   your   meaning.     Ah,  there    is   mamma." 

Mrs.  Waite  had  just  stepped  from  the  house  to  get  the  morn- 
ing air.  Greeting  Robert  affectionately,  she  chatted  a  few  moments, 
cautioning  her  daughter  to  take  care  of  herself  on  the  water,  and 
wandered  along  the  path  by  the  stream.  After  a  half  hour's 
stroll  she  at  last 'found  a  seat  on  one  of  the  benches  and  gazed 
out  over  the  water  with  sad  and  pensive  eves,  which  became  more 
troubled  as  they  alighted  on  Robert  and  Dorris  casting  their  lines 
from  the  little  boat  far  up  the  river.  Their  voices,  full  of  laugh- 
ter and  sunshine,  reached  her  ears,  sometimes  sounding  very  near 
and  then  far,  far  away,  as  if  they  just  came  to  her  in  a  dream. 
This  was  due  to  the  varying  of  the  early  morning  breeze,  as  it  ever 
and  nnon  changed  its  course. 

She  drooped  on  her  knees  at  the  bench  and  offered  up  a  praver 
full  of  penitence,  and  closed  with  asking  the  hand  above  to  guide 
the  affections  of  her  beautiful  child  into  the  channel  of  love  that 
would  bring  her  peace  and  freedom  in  the  future.  "O  God,  I  pray 
and  beseech  you  to  shape  the  course  of  mv  daughter's  affections  so 
as  not  to  leave  her  forever  rrhaony  when  the  truth  is  known.  Pun- 
ish me,  O  Lord,  for  mv  sin  deserves  it;  but  let  not  my  sin  be 
visited  unon  her,  whom  T  have  keot  so  pure  in  thought  as  to  make 
it  impossible  for  me  to  warn  her  by  putting  ?n  impure  thought  or 
knowledge  of  wrong  into  her  mind  as  a  checkmate  to  her  possible 
affections  in  either  direction.  So  I  beseech  you,  O  Lord,  let  yonr 
hand  guide  her  heart  the  riorht  way  for  peace  without  sad- 
dening her  pure  life  with  a  thought  or  knowledge  of  the  perfidy 


180  WICKED  CITY. 

of  this  wicked  world,  for  evil  reigns  here  on  earth.  I  pray  you,  O 
Lord,  to  liehten  her  load  and  keep  my  noble  boy  in  the  right  path 
and  not  visit  the  sins  of  his  parents  on  him.  Amen." 

As  she  slowly  rose  to  her  feet  and  resumed  her  se?t,  Gordon, 
who  had  heard  this  strange  prayer,  of  her  heart,  stepped  forward. 
He  had  happened  along  while  she  was  kneeling,  and  removing  his 
hat  had  stood  with  bowed  head  until  she  arose.  There  was  emotion 
in  his  voice  as  he  greeted  her  with  excuses  for  being  an  uninten- 
tional listener.  She  smiled  through  her  tear-dimmed  eyes  and  made 
room  for  him  on  the  bench  at  her  side.  He  accepted  the  proffered 
seat  and  kissed  with  reverence  at  the  same  time  her  hand  which  she 
extended. 

"Madam,  you  deserve  all  the  favors  that  God  has  to  give.  He 
will  certainly  answer  your  appeal  to  Him.  Your  prayer  has  given 
me  comfort,  also,  for  the  subject  of  it,  in  part,  is  the  silent  prayer 
I  have  offered  up  many  times,  and  have  never  yet  felt  the  hope  and 
confidence  that  I  did  as  it  fell  from  the  lips  of  one  so  holy  and 
righteous  as  yourself." 

She  shrank  from  him  slightly  as  these  words  fell  on  her  ear, 
and  her  voice  quivered  as  she  replied: 

"O  God,  that  I  were  all  that  you  deem  me!  What  a  blessing 
it  would  be  in  my  coming  old  age !  You  think  kindly  of  me,  Gor- 
don, indeed  it  is  generous  of  you.  God  grant  that  you  may  always 
think  thus." 

"Always,  my  dear  madam,  always  will  I  revere  you  as  I  rever- 
ence you  now,  for  I  know  there  can  be  no  sin  in  your  life,  past, 
present  or  future,  so  cheer  up.  You  should  not  feel  so  denressed 
as  this  on  such  a  lovely  morning.  We  all  have  a  great  deal  to  be 
thankful  for,  and  you,  Mrs.  Waite,  most  of  all." 

"All?     Why  T  most  of  all.  Gordon?" 

"Why?  The  subject  around  which  our  thoughts  and  prayers 
are  centered,  your  lovely  daughter.  Are  you  not  most  fortunate 
and  blessed  as  the  mother  of  such  divinity  and  purity  and  grace? 
Madam.  I  have  traveled  over  many  countries,  but  my  eye  has  never 
been  gladdened  with  a  sight  of  such  loveliness,  nobleness  and  purity. 
Her  love  should  make  you  hapoy  in  itself.  Even  the  faint  hone 
you  have  allowed  me  to  entertain,  that  I  may  some  day  in  the 
unknown  and  fickle  future  come  to  you  and  request  the  privilege 
of  laying  my  love  at  her  feet,  is  a  guiding  force  which  influences 
my  every  thought,  my  every  action,  my —  Listen !  Is  that  not  her 
voice?" 

Her  silvery  voice  was  wafted  plainly  to  their  ears  by  the  shift 
ing  of  the  breeze. 

"Yes,  Gordon,  that  is  her  dear  voice,  and  I  am  indeed  a  most 
fortunate  woman  to  have  the  love  of  so  devoted  a  daughter.  It  is 
a  blessing  I  do  not  deserve." 

"And  why  not  deserve,  my  dear  madam?" 

"Do  rot  ask  me,  Gordon,  it  is  a  secret  I  must  carry  in  my  own 
heart  to  the  grave.  Now  you  are  my  guest,  and  it  is  not  good  form 
to  burden  you  with  my  troubles.  So  we  will  walk  towards  the 


WICKED   CITY.  181 

house,  if  you  wish.  Dorris  and  Robert  will  soon  return,  both  hun- 
gry-" 

She  dried  her  eyes  and  composed  herself  while  she  was  speak- 
ing and  arose  to  take  Gordon's  arm  with  a  smile  of  returning  cheer- 
fulness. Then  she  noticed  his  face  which  was  bruised  and  pale 
from  last  night's  encounter. 

"Gordon,  why  did  you  not  tell  me?  Here  I  have  been  talking 
of  my  troubles  and  you  all  bruised,  pale  and  ill.  What  has  hap- 
pened? Who  could  have  been  so  cruel?" 

"Oh,  it  is  nothing  of  any  consequence  at  all,  I  assure  you." 

"Tell  me,  my  boy,  keep  nothing  back  from  me.  Tell  me  the 
truth.  I  know  if  you  tell  me  anything  at  all,  it  will  be  the  truth. 
What  is  it?" 

Being  thus  cornered,  he  narrated  his  adventures  of  the  night, 
as  they  proceeded  on  their  way  to  the  house,  only  leaving  out  the 
bloody  and  sickening  details  which  he  knew  would  greatly  shock 
her.  As  he  finished,  she  exclaimed : 

"Yes,  we  have  a  great  deal  to  be  thankful  for.  It  is  fortunate 
that  you  did  not  lose  your  life.  I  almost  believe  that  it  was  this 
that  caused  me  to  be  so  restless  last  night,  and  so  depressed  and 
low  spirited  this  morning." 

"Possibly  so." 

They  had  reached  the  house.  "Did  I  understand  you  to  say 
that  Robert  is  here  and  is  with  Dorris  on  the  river?" 

"Yes,  there  they  come  now,  and  oh,,  how  happy  they  seem." 

The  two  in  question  were  rowing  toward  the  landing,  their 
voices  blending  well  together  in  one  of  Harris'  latest  songs.  Mrs. 
Waite  continued  on  to  the  house  to  more  fully  compose  herself, 
while  Gordon  started  for  the  landing  to  meet  them.  As  they  caught 
sight  of  his  pale  face,  the  song  was  cut  short  and  they  both  eagerly 
inquired  the  cause,  expressing  sympathy  all  in  the  same  breath.  He 
told  them  what  he  thought  was  best  for  Dorris  to  hear.  Robert, 
the  clever  actor,  asked  many  questions,  as  did  the  ladies,  but  seeing 
that  he  did  not  like  to  discuss  it,  they  took  up  topics  of  a  more 
pleasant  nature.  As  soon  as  the  meal  was  over,  the  two  brothers 
excused  themselves  and  went  for  a  stroll,  arm  in  arm.  When  they 
had  cleared  the  house,  Gordon  in  answer  to  Robert's  request  in- 
formed him  in  detail  of  everything  that  had  occurred  the  night 
before.  As  he  got  to  where  the  shots  were  fired,  and  told  of  the 
mysterious  stranger  coming  to  his  assistance,  Robert  asked  if  he 
had  any  idea  who  he  was. 

"No,  not  in  the  least.  He  was  commonly  dressed  and  looked 
like  a  Spaniard.  He  is  a  good  shot  whoever  he  is.  He  could  have 
killed  me  for  shooting  at  him,  but  he  merely  shot  the  gun  from  my 
hand,  scarcely  grazing  the  fingers.  You  see  these  two  pieces  of 
court  plaster?  Well,  that  is  all  the  dressing  it  reauired.  but  poor 
Jarl  is  pretty  badly  used  up;  he  almost  gave  up  his  life  for  me. 
Many  times  he  has  told  me  he  would,  and  he  oroved  his  words  last 
night.  I  pity  that  robber  if  he  ever  meets  him.  I  am  afraid  he 
will  kill  him.  Dr.  Harsher,  the  surgeon,  and  myself  were  at  his 


182  WICKED  CITY. 

bedside  all  night,  patching  up  his  numerous  wounds.  This  morn- 
ing early,  he  said :  'You  picked  me  up  on  the  Bowery  some  years 
ago  when  I  was  a  bad  un,  and  you  have  tried  to  teach  me  to  speak 
right  and  not  swear.  I  never  could  learn  to  speak  very  proper,  but 
I  did  quit  swearing.  For  over  two  years,  I  have  never  sworn  a 
word,  and  I  won't  swear  now,  master,  if  you  say  not,  but  please, 
master,  just  you  and  the  doctor  step  outside  for  ten  minutes  till  I 
make  this  air  so  blue  that  you  can't  see  me  when  you  come  back.  I 
have  got  it  all  bottled  up  here.'  I  looked  at  the  doctor  who  smiled 
and  said :  'You  had  better  let  him  uncork,  it  will  do  him  more 
good  than  medicine.'  So  I  told  him  to  pull  the  cork  while  the 
doctor  and  I  went  to  breakfast.  We  had  hardly  closed  the  door 
when  he  took  the  fullest  advantage  of  my  permission.  When  we 
returned,  he  was  still  at  it,  and  there  were  two  or  three  bell-boys 
and  a  half  dozen  chambermaids  outside  the  door,  scared  to  death, 
listening  with  all  their  ears.  As^we  crowded  through  them  and 
opened  the  door,  he  chopped  off  in  the  middle  of  a  long  bowery 
compliment  (as  he  cajls  a  swear  word).  He  was  all  of  a  sweat, 
and  heaved  a  great  sigh  as  if  he  were  sorry  we  had  returned  so 
quickly,  and  I  guess  we  were  gone  fully  an  hour.  The  doctor  I 
think  is  laughing  yet.  The  first  thing  Jarl  said  was,  'Thank  you, 
master,  you  have  saved  my  life.'  'Yes,'  I  replied,  'but  you  came 
very  near  scaring  the  life  out  of  the  house  servants.  You  had  quite 
an  audience  out  in  the  hall.'  'Well,  master,'  he  said,  'I  am  sorry, 
and  I  wouldn't  have  cut  loose  if  I  had  of  known  that.  I  thought  I 
was  playing  out  a  hand  with  the  devil  alone.'  I  assured  him  it 
was  all  right,  that  he  had  earned  the  privilege.  And  while  I 
am  speaking  of  him,  Robert,  I  wish  you  would  promise  me  to  look 
after  him  in  a  way,  in  case  anything  happens  to  me.  He  is  true 
blue,  and  a  man  that  can  be  depended  upon." 

"Certainly,  if  you  were  unfortunate.  But  I  think  you  will 
always  be  in  a  position  to  look  after  that.  But  to  come  back  to 
your  adventures  on  the  lake  front;  you  lost  the  $1,000,  you  say?" 

"Yes,  but  not  for  long,  for  almost  the  first  words  Jarl  said 
after  I  raised  him  to  his  feet  were,  'I  got  it,  master,  I  got  it.' 
'You  have  what?'  I  said.  'Why,  the  money,  of  course.'  He  reached 
down  in  his  shoe  and  brought  up  the  ten  one  hundred-dollar  bills 
I  had  been  robbed  of.  I  replaced  them  in  my  pocket.  I  can  tell 
you  I  felt  much  better,  for  it  is  a  large  sum  of  money  to  me  just 
now,  although  my  lawyers  have  telegraphed  me  that  I  may  draw 
on  them  for  $4,000  or  $5,000  in  order  to  secure  the  return  of  the 
clock." 

Robert's  eyes  glistened  as  Gordon  mentioned  this. 

"I  have  already  increased  the  reward  to  $4,000  here.  They 
have  also  offered  $4,000  there  in  London.  Well,  as  I  was  saying, 
this  put  me  in  a  much  better  humor  and  we  were  just  about  to 
return  to  the  hotel  when  a  blue-coat  and  two  detectives  came  run- 
ning up.  They  pumped  us  dry  with  all  kinds  of  questions.  The 
blue-coat  was  bound  to  arrest  us  both,  but  the  two  detectives,  who 
seemed  to  be  pretty  gentlemanly  sort  of  fellows,  argued  the  point 


WICKED  CITY.  183 

with  him  and  won  the  argument  by  sending  him  after  another. 
policeman  (who  had  just  made  his  appearance,  all  out  of  breath, 
in  a  macintosh  and  bad  humor),  to  try  and  overhaul  the  thugs,  while 
they  accompanied  us  to  the  hotel,  in  order  to  give  us  a  chance  to 
verify  our  statements.  Arriving  there,  they  satisfied  themselves 
that  we  were  all  right,  and  left  us,  to  assist  in  the  hunt  for  the 
bandits.  They  said  they  would  report  this  evening  what  success 
they  had  met  with.  They  gave  their  names  as  Detectives  Rometto 
and  Arlex;  a  couple  of  keen  men,  if  I  am  any  judge." 

"Well,  Gordon,  I  am  glad  that  you  did  not  lose  the  money., 
How  did  your  man  regain  it?  I  understood  you  to  say  it  was  in 
a  large  book." 

"Yes,  and  so  it  was,  but  it  seems  that  Jarl,  while  struggling, 
managed  in  some  way  to  extract  the  money,  leaving  the  book  still 
in  possession  of  the  robber,  who,  probably  by  this  time,  has  dis- 
covered the  fact  and  is  cursing  worse  than  he  did  last  evening,  or 
Jarl  this  morning.  Well,  Robert,  it  was  a  great  disappointment  to 
me,  for  I  was  positive  I  was  in  possession  of  the  precious  clock 
once  more,  when  I  saw  the  bundle  in  the  shadow.  But  I  could  not 
help  laughing  with  the  detectives  to  see  them  gather  up  all  those 
guns.  When  they  had  placed  them  in  their  different  pockets,  it 
made  me  think  of  the  visit  you  and  I  mide  to  a  pear  orchard  once. 
But  there  is  one  thing  I  can't  understand." 

"What  is  that?" 

"Why  is  it  the  thugs  left  all  those  weapons  when  they  could 
just  as  well  have  taken  them?"  Robert  smiled,  but  only  said: 

"Did  it  puzzle  the  detectives  too?" 

"They  did  not  say,  but  they  looked  puzzled.  Now  I  must  go 
back  to  the  city  and  look  after  matters  a  little.  I  suppose  you  wHll 
be  ready  to  accompany  me  to  England  by  the  16th  if  we  do  not  suc- 
ceed in  getting  any  trace  of  the  clock  here?" 

"Yes,  if  we  fail  to  get  trace  of  it  here,  I  will  be  ready  to  go 
to  England  with  you,  but  if  we  should  by  ?ny  chance  get  wind  of 
it  here,  the  lawyers  will  have  to  come  to  Chicago." 

"Well,  I  presume  that  could  be  arranged,  but  I  have  little 
confidence  in  again  securing  possession  of  it.  I  am  afraid  some 
thief  has  stolen  it  for  the  jewels  and  ornaments  of  gold  that  adorn 
it,  and  the  clock  is  ruined  by  this  time." 

"Well,  we  will  hope  not,  for  your  sake." 

"For  my  sake,  Robert,  ?nd  why  not  for  your  sake,  as  well?" 

"Well,  I  don't  think  it  holds  any  good  for  me." 

"But,  Robert,  anything  will  be  better  than  this  awful  suspense, 
this  uncertainty!  So  I  guess  I  will  just  step  in  and  say  good-bye 
and  return  to  the  city  at  once.  There  may  be  a  cablegram  from 
London.  My  strongest  hope  lies  in  that  direction.  I  would  not 
have  come  out  to-day  at  all,  but  calling  at  your  hotel  this  morn- 
ing, I  found  you  were  away,  so  took  the  chance  of  finding  you 
here.  Are  you  going  back  to  the  house?  All  right,  then  we  will 
go  in  together.  Robert,  you  have  not  forgotten  our  compact,  have 
you?" 


184  WICKED  CITY. 

"No,  I  have  not  forgotten  it." 

"Well,  I  am  sure  you  will  keep  it,  too.  We  must  remember 
the  duty  we  owe  her." 

On  reaching  the  house,  Gordon  made  his  adieu  and  was  soon 
whirling  back  to  the  city's  center,  while  Robert  lazily  killed  the 
time  in  this  little  garden  of  Eden,  and  like  the  serpent,  he  was 
exerted  all  the  power  possessed  by  those  magnetic  eves  to  hypnotize 
and  even  against  her  will,  bring  her  to  believe  in  him  and  love  him. 
Would  he  succeed? 

Gordon  found  a  dispatch  from  his  lawyers  in  London.  He 
opened  it  with  trembling  fingers.  "Good !  The  Scotland  Yard 
men  have  traced  it  to  America  through  the  Custom  •House  officers. 
That  is  news,  good  news!  Robert  will  be  pleased  to  find  that  his 
theory  was  a  correct  one  anyway,  even  though  he  doesn't  seem  to 
take  the  interest  in  it  he  should.  Let  me  see,  the  dispatch  says  to 
draw  on  the  Bankers  National  for  $4,000.  I  might  need  it  any 
moment  if  that  personal  should  reach  the  right  thief's  eye,  so  I 
will  draw  on  them  at  once." 

An  hour  later,  that  amount  was  locked  away  in  Jarl's  room, 
ready  for  immediate  use.  Jarl,  himself,  was  much  better  and 
seemed  pleased  at  the  confidence  his  master  placed  in  him.  Later 
on  Arlex  and  Rometto,  the  two  detectives  who  had  befriended 
him  the  night  before,  droooed  in  and  reported  that  they  had  one  of 
the  robbers  and  if  he  wished  to  prosecute  him,  to  call  at  the  Har- 
rison street  station  at  9  o'clock  the  following  morning.  But  Gor- 
don informed  them  he  did  not  care  to  prosecute  the  fellow.  They 
replied  that  it  was  his  duty  to,  but  he  stood  his  ground,  so  they 
cheered  Jarl  up  a.  little  by  telling  him  they  thought  he  would  pull 
around  all  right  in  two  or  three  years. 

"Two  or  three  years?"  he  cried,  "Wot  ye  givin'  me?  Two  or 
three  days,  ye  mean.  I  was  raised  on  de  Bowery,  I  was." 

The  detectives  laughed  good  naturedly  and  left.  After  they 
had  gone,  Gordon  was  wondering  if  it  would  have  been  policy  to 
tell  them  of  the  mysterious  clock.  Arriving  at  no  definite  conclusion, 
he  decided  to  put  the  question  -off  until  he  had  consulted  Robert, 
so  after  supoer,  set  out  for  his  quarters. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Long  was  in."  After  a  wait  of  five  minutes,  he 
was  shown  up,  and  eagerly  imparted  the  good  news  to  his  brother, 
who  seemed  more  interested  than  at  any  time  previous,  especially 
so  when  the  $4,000  were  mentioned.  In  reply  to  Gordon's  question 
about  cutting  it  into  the  hands  of  the  detectives,  he  said : 

"Most  certainly,  brother,  it  is  a  very  good  idea.  If  you  hear 
nothing  more  by  tomorrow,  I  would  certainly  do  so." 

There  was  a  quite,  mysterious  smile  flitting  about  the  corners 
of  his  mouth  as  he  spoke,  then  he  excused  himself,  saying  that  he 
was  expected  at  the  club.  So  Gordon  returned  to  his  apartments 
and  awaited  further  developments,  which  proved  to  be  be- 
yond his  wildest  expectations.  While  enjoying  a  weed  at  the  open 
window  and  looking  down  the  busy  streets  of  the  wicked  city,  he 
noted  in  particular  a  closed  hack  which  drew  up  near  the  ladies' 


WICKED  CITY.  185 

entrance  and  fell  into  line  with  the  many  other  vehicles  of  every 
description  which  line  the  curb  day  and  night.  Little  did  he  sur- 
mise that  it  held  the  mysterious  clock  and  his  degenerating  brother 
in  disguise.  But  such  was  the  case.  A  moment  later,  there  was 
a  knock  at  the  door.  It  was  repeated  many  times  before  he  at 
last  was  made  aware  of  it,  for  the  noise  from  the  street  drowned 
all  ordinary  sounds.  Raising  his  voice,  he  bawled  an  invitation  to 
enter.  A  second  later  he  was  somewhat  surprised  to  behold  the 
very  hackman  he  had  noticed  on  the  seat  of  the  vehicle  that  had 
just  drawn  up. 

"Is  this  Mr.  Long?" 

"That  is  my  name." 

"Mr. — Gordon  Long?" 

"Yes,  Mr.  Gordon  Long.     What  can  I  do  for  you?" 

"Well,  I  dunno  es  ye  kin  do  enything  fur  me,  but  I  got  a  'fare' 
down  dere  wot  wants  t'  see  ye  pretty  bad.  He  sez  as  he  is  too 
ill  ter  come  up,  and  he  wants  ye  t'  come  t'  me  rig.  Mebby  ye  kin 
do  someting  fur  'im." 

While  the  man  was  speaking,  many  thoughts  flashed  through 
Gordon's  mind.  At  last  he  replied,  "Did  he  say  what  he  wished 
to  see  me  about?" 

"No,  he  only  sed  as  he  wus  too  sick  t'  come  up,  an  as  ye  wus 
t'  come  down." 

"What  kind  of  a  looking  man  is  he?"  Gordon  inquired  glancing 
at  his  visitor  sharply. 

"Say,  govn'r,  I  ain't  paid  fur  answerin'  questions,  I  ain't.  I 
gets  me  money  drivin'  hack,  I  duz.  I  told  ye  all  he  told  me  t' 
tell  ye.  See?" 

"Yes,  I  see.  See  if  you  can  see  C  on  this."  And  as  Gordon 
spoke  he  tossed  him  a  silver  coin.  The  non-committal  hackman 
deftly  caught  it,  spun  it  in  the  air  with  a  grin,  and  was  non-com- 
mittal no  more.  He  in  return  told  Gordon  all  he  knew  of  the 
matter,  which  was  little  to  the  point. 

"Well,  govn'r,  he's  a  Mexican  er  Spaniard,  wid  a  stoop  in  his 
back  an  he  aint  got  enuf  good  clothes  on  him  t'  dust  a  fiddle.  Ye 
see  I  wuz  returning  from  de  park  on  de  nort  side  after  dumpin  a 
couple  of  'fair  weather  floats',  (a  young  feller  and  his  gal)  on 
de  grass,  when  dis  feller  hailed  me  near  de  dock  on  Rush  Street 
and  so  I  rushed  his  nibs  over  here.  Guess  he  got  off  de  boat  fur 
he  wer  luggin'  a  big  case ." 

Gordon  waited  for  no  more.  Bounding  to  his  feet,  he  left 
the  surprised  hackman  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  floor  and 
rushed  into  Jarl's  room.  Securing  a  heavy  revolver,  he  shoved  it: 
in  the  breast  of  his  coat,  then  returned  for  the  cabman.  Together 
they  started  for  the  street.  He  could  not  wait  for  the  "lift,"  and 
the  hackman  could  hardly  keep  up  with  him  as  he  hurried  down 
the  marble  stairs,  two  at  a  time.  The  hack,  itself,  was  drawn  up 
in  the  dark  shadows.  Gordon  glanced  in.  Seeing  only  one  figure, 
and  nothing  alarming,  he  drew  still  nearer  and  opened  the  con- 
versation in  a  sharp,  quick,  business-like  tone  of  voice. 


186  WICKED  CITY. 

"Do  you  wish  to  speak  to  me,  sir?" 

"Yes,  if  your  name  is  Gordon  Long." 

"That  is  my  name,  sir.     What  is  your  business  with  me?" 

"Do  you  know  me?" 

"No,  I  do  not  remember  of  meeting  you  before.  Still  your 
voice  sounds  familiar.  What  is  your  business  with  me?  Come  to 
the  point  at  once." 

"Well,  I  have  about  $4,000  worth  of  business  with  you  if  you 
happen  to  have  that  much  in  cash  about  you." 

"I  do  not  as  a  general  rule  carry  a  sum  as  large  as  that,  but 
I  have  that  amount  in  the  hotel.  I  suppose  you  refer  to  this  in 
connection  with  the  clock  I  advertised  for." 

"You  have  guessed  it.  I've  got  the  clock.  You  bring  the 
monev  and  we  will  trade." 

"You  shall  have  the  'money  if  you  really  have  the  clock,  but 
you  will  have  to  satisfy  me  beyond  a  doubt  that  you  have  it  with 
you." 

"Well,  here  it  is.     Take  a  look  at  it." 

As  the  occupant  of  the  cab  spoke,  he  drew  back  the  flap  of 
a  heavy  case  and  exposed  to  the  eager  gaze  of  Gordon  the  top 
ornaments  he  knew  so  well,  an  angel  decked  with  gold  trappings 
which  shone  in  the  dim  light.  Being  satisfied  that  it  was  the 
mysterious  clock  that  was  playing  havoc  with  his  life,  he  quickly 
returned  to  his  quarters.  Entering  Jarl's  room,  he  found  that  he 
was  asleep.  The  light  was  dim,  and  not  wishing  to  arouse  him, 
and  thinking  to  give  him  a  surorise  later  on,  he  secured  the  money 
without  turning  up  the  gas  and  swung  around  to  retrace  his  steps, 
when  the  cold  barrel  of  a  revolver  pressed  against  his  cheek.  As 
he  felt  the  cold  muzzle  of  the  weapon  he  also  recognized  Jarl's 
voice  who  cried  in  meaning  tones,  "Put  my  master's  money  back, 
or  I  will  make  cold  meat  of  you  sure." 

Gordon  half  turned  and  looked^  along  _ the  steel  that  gleamed 
so  near  his  eye.  He  laughed  and  said,  "It  is  I,  Jarl." 

Jarl  dropped  the  gun  and  confusedly  stammered,  "Is  it  really 
you,  master?  I  thought  it  was  a  robber." 

"Yes,  it  is.  I,  and  I  see  that  you  were  looking  out  for  my 
interests  as  usual.  Now  I  am  in  a  great  hurry.  You  get  back 
into  thnt  bed  before  you  dislodge  all  of  those  bandages  and  the 
thousand  and  one  stitches  or  Dr.  Harsher  will  give  you  more  than 
fifteen  minutes  with  the  devil." 

"All  rip,H,  master,  you'll  find  I  am  'Johnny  on  de  spot.'  Dey 
wont  nobody  give  ye  de  worst  of  it  even  if  I  am  done  up  in  about 
a  hundred  yards  of  medicated  linen." 

Gordon  laughed  and  hurried  out,  closing  the  door  between 
Jarl's  room  and  his  suite.  When  he  struck  the  walk,  the  hack  was 
gone.  His  spirits  fell  to  zero.  Was  he  ag^in  to  be  disappointed? 
Where  could  thev  have  eone  to?  He  looked  about  in  every  direc- 
tion, then  naced  the  walk  restlessly.  But  again  hope  sprang  up  in 
his  heart,  for  there  coming  towards  him  was  the  hack.  As  it  drew 
up  the  mysterious  occupant  inside  explained. 


WICKED  CITY.  187 

"You  were  gone  so  lone.  I  thought  you  were  going  to  'Job' 
me,  but  I  see  you  are  all  right,  that  is  you'r  all  right  if  you  have 
got  the  'long  green.'  " 

"You  mean  the  money?" 

"Yes,  I  mean  the  money." 

"Well,  I  have  it  here.  You  set  the  clock  on  the  walk  and  I 
will  give  it  to  you." 

The  lower  door  of  the  hack  opened  and  a  dark  faced,  stoop- 
shouldered  man  stepped  out,  the  precious  burden  in  his  arms.  As 
he  stooped  still  lower  to  place  it  on  the  walk,  he  kept  his  eyes 
thrown  upward,  watching  Gordon  like  a  hawk.  Then  rising,  held 
out  his  hand  for  the  money.  Gordon  again  satisfied  himself  that 
there  was  no  mistake,  by  feeling  of  the  bundle  and  forthwith  placed 
the  money  into  the  outstretched  hand,  remarking, 

''Now  there  is  the  money,  $4,000,  tell  me  how  you " 

"There  now,  that  will  do.  Remember  the  ad.  in  the  paper 
said  as  you  would  ask  no  questions.  You  got  the  clock,  I  got  the 
money.  It's  a  good  trade,  and  you  had  better  take  your  end  of  the 
trade  inside  before  some  boot-black  swipes  it  from  you.  And  as  to 
myself,  I  will  just  say  Bye-bye,  my  generous  friend  for  this  money 
is  burning  a  hole  in  me  blooming  pockets  and  cabby's  tongue  is 
swelling  up  on  him  for  the  want  of  drink." 

With  this  parting  sally,  he  re-entered  the  hack,  evidently  in, 
the  best  of  humor,  for  Gordon  could  hear  a  faint  chuckle  as  it 
rattled  off  towards  Wabash  avenue.  Calling  a  servant  who  was 
loitering  near,  he  had  him  carry  the  clock  to  his  rooms,  and  it 
was  soon  ticking  off  the  minutes  as  merrily  as  ever.  The  next 
thing  was  to  telephone  to  Robert,  which  he  did  immediately.  Rob- 
ert, the  clever  schemer,  had  just  returned,  and  was  making  his 
change.  In  five  minutes  time  he  had  completed  his  toilet  and  was 
talking  to  his  brother  over  the  wire,  who  said,  "Come  over  at 
once.  I  have  the  clock." 

Twenty  minutes  later,  Robert  was  with  him,  standing  before 
the  mysterious  clock  that  held  their  destinies,  asking  all  kind's  of 
questions  as  to  how  he  got  it,  etc.,  while  his  heart  beat  evenly 
and  regularly  against  the  $4,000  reward  paid  to  the  mysterious 
visitor. 

The  brothers  selected  fresh  cigars  and  prepared  themselves 
for  a  chat  over  plans  for  the  short  time  to  come  before  the  clock 
would  give  up  its  secret.  They  were  well  pleased  over  their  good 
fortune,  each  in  his  own  way  and  there  was  not  that  restraint  which 
had  been  so  evident  for  the  past  few  days.  It  was  about  the  first 
really  good  feeling  that  had  existed  between  them  on  both  sides 
since  the  scene  at  Ivy  cottage  when  Dorris  was  watching  the  robins 
with  her  soul  in  her  upturned  eyes.  That  innocent  upturned  face 
had  surprised  what  little  good  there  was  in  Robert,  and  brought 
it  to  the  surface  with  the  promise  he  gave  Gordon,  only  to  break 
it  later. 

"It  is  in  good  order,  I  suppose." 


188  WICKED  CITY. 

"Yes,  it  seems  to  be.  When  I  set  it  to  the  correct  time  it  was 
ten  minutes  after  the  hour.  In  fifteen  minutes  it  will  strike  and  then 
we  can  tell." 

"Did  you  ask  the  fellow  how  much  time  it  had  lost  while  it 
was  in  his  possession?" 

"Well  now,  what  a  dumb-head  I  was,  to  be  sure.  I  never 
thought  of  that,  although  I  did  start  to  ask  him  some  questions 
about  it,  but  he  reminded  me  that  it  was  out  of  form,  and  not  in 
the  understanding.  Well,  it  probably  has  lost  some  time,  and  it 
will  be  heard  to  tell  just  how  much." 

"This  is  the  13th  day  of  the  month." 

'|Yes,  it  is  the  13th.  Old  superstition  quotes  that  the  13th 
day  is  an  unlucky  day.  It  is  disproved  in  this  instance,  as  it  has 
been  a  lucky  day  for  us.  I  know  Mrs.  Waite  and  Jarl  will  be 
surprised  and  pleased." 

"You  told  Mrs.  Waite,  then?" 

"Well,  she  happened  to  see  the  personal  and  asked  me  about 
it.  She  seemed  greatly  interested." 

"Will  you  have  the  lawyer  come  here?" 

"We  can  if  you  prefer  it." 

"It  would  suit  me  better.     You  have  not  cabled  them  yet?" 

"No.  I  had  not  thought  of  that.  As  soon  as  it  ^strikes  the 
hour,  I  will  go  and  send  a  cablegram.  Shall  I  tell  him  in  the  same 
dispatch  to  come  on?" 

"Why,  yes,  I  would.  It  is  necessary  for  him  to  be  here,  is 
it  not?" 

"Yes,  so  the  instructions  in  the  will  read  if  you  remember." 

So  they  chatted  on,  smoking  the  while,  till  the  sweet  chimes 
they  came  and  watched  the  mechanical  figures  as  they  crossed  the 
face  of  the  clock.  As  the  last  miniature  figure  disappeared  through 
of  the  clock  interrupted  them.  As  it  began  to  tell  of  the  hour, 
the  arched  doorway,  another  figure,  life-size,  swathed  in  bandages, 
glided  in.  Surprise  and  pleasure  were  written  on  every  portion  of 
the  homely  features  that  was  visible  to  the  eye,  and  listened  with 
them  to  the  beautiful  strains  of  music  that  now  issued  from  the 
miniature  cathedral.  As  this  at  last  ceased,  they  turned  to  confront 
the  figure  of  Jarl,  who  wore  only  his  night  robe,  patches,  and  a 
broad  grin.  After  explaining  to  him  how  it  happened,  they  sent 
him  back  to  bed,  and  summoned  the  doctor,  for  he  had  managed 
to  loosen  every  bandage  and  patch  since  he  had  mistaken  Gordon 
for  a  robber. 

THE  MYSTERIOUS  CLOCK  AT  IVY  COTTAGE. 

The  day  following,  they  met  at  Ivy  cottage,  and  Mrs.  Waite  was 
informed  of  their  good  luck.  She  was  overjoyed  at  the  news,  and 
years  seemed  to  roll  from  her  life.  The  little  wrinkles  that  had 
gathered  of  late  were  smoothed  out,  and  she  was  the  happiest  of 


WICKED  CITY.  186 

the  four  happy  ones  that  day.  Why  was  this?  Because  it  lessened 
her  daughter's  chances  of  having  her  life  blasted. 

"Gordon,  our  prayers  have  been  answered." 

"Yes,  I  believe  you,  madam.  I  felt  a  confidence  after  listen- 
ing to  your  heartfelt  prayer  that  I  failed  to  feel  before." 

"My  boy,  do  you  think  it  will  be  cafe  there  at  the  hotel?" 

"It  will  be  safe  till  I  return,  at  any  rate.  It  is  in  my  man's 
room  and  he  is  lying  in  bed  with  two  large  revolvers  as  compan- 
ions. I  pity  any  poor  creature  who  attempts  to  steal  it  while  he  is 
responsible  for  it." 

"Yes,  no  doubt  it  is  safe  now,  but  will  it  be  if  there  should 
be  a  fire,  or  you  and  Jarl  were  both  away,  or  even  while  you  sleep 
you  might  lose  it  in  some  way.  Gordon,  why  not  bring  it  out  here, 
no  one  would  think  of  this  out-of-town  place  as  the  keeper  of  such 
a  treasure?  It  would  be  safe  here,  I  am  sure." 

"You  are  right,  madam,  it  is  a  good  idea.  I  cannot  thank  you 
too  much  for  your  kindness  and  forethought.  I  will  return  at  once 
and  bring  it." 

Just  as  the  sun  was  creeping ,  out  of  sight  over  the  western 
banks  of  the  stream,  Gordon  appeared  with  his  treasure  and  de- 
posited it  on  the  vine-clad  veranda.  Dorris,  the  only  one  who  had 
never  seen  the  wonderful  clock,  was  naturally  the  most  curious, 
and  could  hardly  wait  till  it  was  brought  into  the  cozy  parlor.  It 
was  quite  heavy  and  Gordon  had  zealously  lugged  it  from  the  sta- 
tion. One  could  not  tell  from  the  impassive  face  of  Robert  whether 
this  pleased  him  or  not.  He  said  very  little  as  they  deposited  it 
on  the  center  table. 

Mother  and  daughter  examined  it  with  an  awed  expression. 
It  was  the  most  beautiful  and  artistically  designed  clock  Dorris  had 
ever  gazed  upon.  The  jewels  and  gold  ornaments  were  worth  a 
little  fortune  in  themselves.  Gordon  set  it  at  the  correct  time, 
which  was  a  few  minutes  of  the  hour.  They  clustered  around  and 
waited,  after  stilling  the  old  family  timepiece.  It  was  the  first  rest 
from  its  ceaseless  tick-tock  for  many  'years.  The  last  rays  of 
the  sun  were  finding  their  way  through  the  vine-decked  window 
and  cact  a  red  glow  on  the  gold  face  of  the  London  clock  which 
was  reflected  around  the  shapely  head  of  Dorris  like  a  halo.  She 
bent  forward  in  eager  expectancy  as  it  began  to  register  the  hour 
with  its  beautiful  chimes.  Many  conflicting  thoughts  ran 
riot  through  the  minds  of  the  two  brothers  as  they  gazed 
at  her  with  eyes  of  emotion  and  love.  They  watched 
her  every  fleeting  expression  as  she  listened  and  watched  in 
pleased  surprise  and  wonder,  until  the  last  strains  of  sweet  music 
died  away.  For  almost  a  minute,  she  stood  as  if  in  a  trance,  then, 
recovering  herself,  she  lifted  her  lovely  brown  eyes,  only  to  lower 
them  immediatelv  with  a  blush  as  they  encountered  those  of  the 
brothers.  In  that  one  swift  glance,  she  had  read  all.  These 
men,  who  she  thought  so  good,  so  handsome,  so  accomplished,  loved 
her.  It  came  to  her  like  a  revelation  from  heaven.  For  a  moment 
she  was  confused  and  troubled,  but  quickly  regained  her  composure 


190  WICKED  CITY. 

and  broke  the  silence  in  exclamations  of  praise  and  admiration  for 
the  beautiful  work  of  mechanical  art.  From  that  day  on,  there  was 
a  change  in  her.  She  would  sit  for  hours  thinking  deeply,  while 
it  could  be~noticed  that  the  constraint  between  the  brothers  became 
more  pronounced,  although  Gordon  was  always  kind  and  consider- 
ate, while  in  turn,  Robert  had  little  to  say  and  that  little  was  in 
a  somewhat  distant  but  polite  tone  whenever  he  addressed  Gordon. 
As  to  Dorris,  he  exerted  all  the  magnetism  in  his  power  to  win 
her  regard.  And  so  the  spring  days  slipped  away, 

*  *  *  *  *  *  * 

Jarl  was  soon  up  and  about  and  spent  &  good  deal  of  his  tim,e 
on  the  levee  with  an  old  chum  named  Hank,  from  the  Bowery, 
whom  he  accidently  met  at  McGinnis'  Sporting  headquarters.  His 
new  chum  was  an  Irish  wit  with  a  bowery  and  levee  education.They 
had  nothing  to  do  but  look  for  trouble  and  they  found  plenty  of  it 
in  the  "tenderloin  district,"  as  they  term  that  portion  of  the  south 
side  from  Van  Buren  street  to  the  black  belt.  They  spent  their 
time  in  the  haunts  of  vice  and  hell-holes  of  iniquity,  abounding 
in  the  "Wicked  City,"  looking  for  Jarl's  enemy,  the  short  thug.  It 
was  like  living  their  bowery  days  over. 

The  two  brothers  spent  the  best  part  of  their  time  in  Sunny- 
side  at  Ivy  cottage,  where  purity  and  virtue  presided  in  the  graceful 
form  of  Dorris. 

A  WIND  FROM  THE  EAST  AND  "THE  MAN  IN  BLACK." 

It  was  now  the  23rd  of  the  month,  a  chilly  wind  came  in  from 
the  east,  and  with  it  Mr.  Bunnes,  one  of  the  London  attorneys, 
•with  a  business  air,  and  his  pockets  full  of  legal  papers.  He  was 
met  at  the  station  by  Gordon,  who  drove  him  to  the  Palmer  House, 
where  he  registered  him  as  his  guest.  The  lawyer  seemed  to  be 
of  an  amiable  disposition,  although  rather  affected  in  manner  for 
a  man  of  his  profession.  At  any  rate,  he  shook  hands  warmly 
with  Jarl  on  meeting  him  and  ag^iin  shook  hands  after  Gordon  had 
related  their  adventure  on  the  lake  front,  posing  Jarl  as  a  hero. 
Then  he  inquired  about  Robert.  Gordon  replied, 

"He  seldom  comes  to  see  me  here.  About  the  only  time  I  see 
him  is  when  we  meet  at  Mrs.  Waite's.  You  remember  her,  I  be- 
lieve?" 

"Oh,  yes,  I  do,  indeed.  Her  husband  was  a  lawyer  and  one  of 
the  finest  gentlemen,  both  in  a  business  and  social  way  that  I  ever 
had  the  honor  of  calling  my  friend.  Yes,  she  and  her  daughter 
live  on  the  estate  he  left  them  known  as  'Ivy  cottage,'  in  a  beauti- 
ful spot  near  S"nnyside  on  the  banks  of  the  river." 

"So  I  understood.  The  daughter  was  born  there.  I  believe. 
I  had  the  pleasure  of  visitinsr  them  when  she  was  a  little  srirl  no 
larger  than  a  minute,  with  the  prettiest  eyes  and  hair  I  ever  saw. 
If  she  has  fulfilled  the  promises  of  her  childhood,  she  must  be  a 
handsome  young  woman  indeed." 


WICKED   CITY.  191 

"Well,  you  can  judge  for  yourself,  for  we  will  call  upon  them 
if  you  wish  after  you  have  had  a  god  night's  rest." 

And  so  it  was  agreed.  The  following  day  found  them  at 
Sunnyside.  Robert  was  there  before  them.  They  all  spent  a 
pleasant  day  and  finished  up  with  music  after  tea.  The  lawyer 
heartily  approved  of  the  plan  to  keep  the  clock  in  its  present  quar- 
ters until  the  day  it  should  reveal  the  great  secret  it  held. 

"And,  by  the  way,  I  find  by  taking  a  certain  matter  into  con- 
sideration, we  had  overlooked  at  the  time,  that  the  three  years  will 
be  up  on  the  28th  of  this  month  instead  of  the  18th  of  the  coming 
month,  as  supposed.  So,  upon  the  28th  we  should  all  gather  here 
and  await  developments,  if  Mrs.  Waite  does  not  object,  for  it  may 
inconvenience  her  to  a  considerable  extent." 

"You  are  all  most  welcome  to  make  my  little  home  yours  as 
long  as  you  wish,  and  as  far  as  inconvenience  is  concerned,  it  shall 
be  turned  into  a  pleasure,  besides  I  am  greatly  interested  in  this 
strange  time-piece  as  is  my  daughter,  also.  Therefore,  it  can  be 
no  other  than  an  agreeable  arrangement  all  around." 

"We  are  certainly  indebted  to  you  for  your  kind  offer,  and  it 
is  only  fair  to  inform  you  that  we  will  stand  watch  day  and  night, 
possibly  for  weeks,  as  we  do  not  know  how  much  time  it  has  lost 
during  the  period  it  was  in  possession  of  the  thief,  or  thieves  as  it 
may  be." 

"Now  as  to  that,  we  have  plenty  of  spare  rooms  and  I  shall 
insist  on  you  utilizing  them  as  long  as  you  wish.  As  far  as  being 
up  night  and  day,  we,  my  daughter  and  I  will  sit  up  and  watch 
with  you  by  turns  for  we  are  both  dying  with  curiosity  to  know 
how  or  in  what  manner  it  is  going  to  tell  which  one  is  the  heir." 

"You  are  kindness,  itself,  madam,  and  to  return  that  kindness 
in  part,  I  will  satisfy  your  curiosity  (which  is  only  natural  under 
the  circumstances)  to  the  fullest  extent  of  my  ability  and  knowl- 
edge, a  knowledge  that  even  these  young  men  do  not  possess,  unless 
they  have  made  a  shrewd  guess."  He  cleared  his  throat,  adjusted 
his  gold-bowed  glasses,  then  surveyed  the  eager  and  interested 
faces  of  all  present,  before  he  volunteered  further  information.  Be- 
ing satisfied  with  the  sensation  he  had  created,  he  slowly  arose 
and  approached  the  clock. 

"It  is  very  simple,  as  you  will  see,"  he  added.  The  others 
had  followed  and  pressed  around  him. 

"None  of  you  rnve  yet  formed  an  opinion  as  to  how  it  is  going 
to  give  up  its  secret?" 

Yes,  they  had  all  formed  opinions,  but  no  two  alike.  Some 
were  visionary  and  some  more  practical,  but  none  exactly  hit  the 
truth.  So  he  gave  it  to  them  in  all  its  simplicity. 

"If  you  have  observed  the  bridal  party  closely  as  it  appears 
from  the  mansion  on  the  left,  you  probably  noticed  the  bride  has 
two  escorts,  ere  at  each  side  of  her,  besides  the  other  figures  that 
make  up  the  party." 

Yes,  they  had  all  noticed  the  fact. 


192  WICKED  CITY. 

"Well,  one  of  them  represents  Robert,  while  the  other  rep- 
resents  " 

"Gordon,"  a  voice  broke  in. 

"You  are  right,  the  other  represents  Gordon." 

He  looked  around  to  see  who  had  spoken.  He  looked  over 
his  glasses  and  under  his  glasses,  and  even  through  them,  before 
he  could  determine  from  whence  this  remark  came.  The  daugh- 
ter's face  was  pale  and  distressed,  but  a  tell-tale  blush  chased  the 
paleness  away  and  told  its  story,  as  his  sharp  eyes  swept  her 
features. 

"Ah-ha,  that's  the  way  the  wind  blows,"  so  the  lawyer  thought 
to  himself  as  he  again  cleared  his  throat,  caught  the  glasses  as 
they  slipped  from  his  nose,  and  continued  with  a  provoking  calmness 
and  precision  which  was  mildly  irritating  to  his  audience  who  were 
all  deeply  interested  in  what  he  had  to  say.  The  lawyer,  himself, 
enjoyed  the  situation  and  made  the  most  of  it,  prolonging  it.  as 
far  as  possible.  , 

"Well,  as  the  bridal  party  arrives  at  this  spot  which  I  des- 
ignate with  my  finger,  there  is  a  halt  of  a  minute,  during  which 
time  one  of  the  escorts  at  her  side  disappears  through  this  little 
pathway.  The  remaining  figure  which  accompanies  them  into  the 
church  is  the  heir." 

There  were  eager  questions  from  all  except  Robert,  who  stood 
in  the  background,  watching  Dorris  with  drawn  lips  and  a  pre-oc- 
cupied  air.  "How  are  you  to  know  the  name  of  the  one  that  re- 
mains in  sight?" 

The  lawyer  answered  this  question  by  producing  from  an  inner 
pocket,  a  round  magnifying  glass,  to  which  was  attached  a  handle. 
With  provoking  deliberation,  he  carefully  rubbed  and  polished  it 
in  silence  with  a  black  handkerchief,  a  color  in  keeping  with  his 
other  apparel,  for  he  was  clothed  in  black  from  heel  to  hat.  At 
last  he  condescended  to  speak. 

"You  see  this?" 

"Yes,"  they  cried  in  a  breath. 

"Well,  this  is  what  tells  the  tale.  The  puppets  will  soon  ap- 
pear and  you  can  see  for  yourself,  for  it  is  about  to  strike  the 
hour." 

In  breathless  silence  they  waited.  As  the  mellow  sounds  of 
the  chimes  ceased  to  vibrate,  and  the  bell  began  to  toll,  the  mini- 
ature figures  appeared.  Handing  the  glass  to  Dorris,  he  instructed 
her  to  look  through  it  and  tell  the  others  what  she  discovered. 
Taking  the  glass  in  her  feverish  hand  which  trembled  slightly  from 
emotion  or  excitement,  she  covered  the  slowly  moving  figures 
They  appeared  much  larger. 

"Now,  tell  us  what  you  see."    The  man  in  black  requested. 

In  a  trembling  and  confused  voice  she  replied :  "I  see  plainly 
the  name  'Robert'  on  one  while  on  the  other  is  the  name  of 
'Gordon.'  " 

"Well,  you  see  it  is  simple,  as  I  remarked  before." 

She  handed  the  glass  to  her  mother,  who  also  looked  through 


WICKED   CITY.  193 

it  as  did  Gordon.  Robert,  alone,  declined  to  be  interested^  He 
had  taken  a  turn  about  the  room  and  was  critically  examining  a 
painting  by  Dorris.  When  they  turned  to  offer  him  the  glass,  he 
swung  slowly  around  and  rejoined  them,  but  the  figures  had  dis- 
appeared and  the  sweet  strains  of  music  were  issuing  from  the 
cathedral.  Robert  now  asked  his  first  question. 

"What  becomes  of  the  one  who  so  mysteriously  disappears  to 
the  regions  below?" 

"He  reappears,"  the  lawyer  replied. 

"When  does  he  reappear?" 

"He  is  supposed  to  appear  again  three  months  from  the  date 
of  his  disappearance." 

"Does  he  appear  again  on  this  pathway?" 

"No,  if  you  notice,  directly  below  the  pathway,  here  in  the 
base  of  the  clock  is  a  panel.  This  panel  flies  open  and  he  glides 
out  from  somewhere  in  the  mesh-work  of  mechanical  apparatus  it 
is  so  honeycombed  with  onto  this  little  projection." 

"Then  what?" 

It  was  Mrs.  Waite  that  had  spoken,  who  was  nervously  biting 
her  lips.  Even  Robert's  face  now  bore  a  look  of  deep  interest,  as 
the  tantalizing  lawyer,  in  turn  scrutinized  every  visage. 

He  had  told  all  he,  himself,  knew,  but  replied,  "That  is  all  I 
am  allowed  to  divulge  at  this  stage  of  the  proceedings." 

There  was  a  disappointed  expression  on  every  face  which 
pleased  him  greatly  as  he  noticed  it,  for  if  there  was  anything  he 
reveled  in  it  was  a  mystery  like  this.  Their  curiosity  and  interest 
was  food  for  him.  He  could  still  have  them  guessing  and  speculat- 
ing upon  the  outcome  of  the  secret  months  after  the  disclosure  of 
the  first.  Mrs.  Waite's  face  wore  a  troubled  look,  as  she  later 
on  followed  her  visitors  to  the  door  to  bid  them  good-night.  Both 
of  the  brothers,  in  turn  pressed  Dorris'  hand  at  parting,  Robert 
retaining  it  in  his  warm  clasp  somewhat  longer  than  was  proper, 
considering  the  compact  between  the  brothers.  Gordon  noticed  this 
and  was  much  troubled. 

Was  Robert  keeping  his  word?  It  did  not  appear  so.  He  had 
lately  noticed  many  little  circumstances  which  aroused  his  suspi- 
cions. Robert  left  the  gentlemen  at  the  gate  and  turned  north  say- 
ing he  was  going  to  keep  an  appointment  with  a  friend  who  lived 
near  by.  As  the  other  two  strolled  toward  the  station,  they  discussed 
many  things  of  interest  to  both.  They  also  speculated  on  the  reason 
why  Robert  acted  so  strangely,  the  subject  first  brought  up  by  the 
lawyer.  It  had  become  a  mystery  to  Gordon  as  to  why  his  brother 
would  never  visit  him  or  accompany  him  on  his  way  out.  They 
talked  it  over  at  some  length,  but  could  see  no  practical  reason  for 
his  peculiar  actions. 

The  following  day,  Robert  contrived  to  meet  Dorris  as  she 
was  taking  her  morning  drive  behind  Bonny  Bess.  He  bowed  and 
stood  with  uncovered  head.  She  could  do  no  more  than  invite  him 
to  join  her,  an  invitation  he  readily  accepted.  After  a  pleasant  hour's 
whirl  along  the  boulevards  and  through  the  parks,  an  hour  which 


194  WICKED  CITY. 

he  made  the  most  of,  they  returned  and  passed  the  remainder  of 
the  day  in  the  simple  pleasures  which  the  grounds  furnished  them. 
Gordon  did  not  appear.  He  spent  the  day  with  his  friend  from 
London,  showing  him  about  the  city  Londoners  termed  wicked. 

The  day  following  this,  Robert  took  a  trip  to  Milwaukee  and 
while  there  ordered  a  reversible  coat,  made  up  in  the  latest  style. 
By  promising  the  tailor  an  extra  fee,  he  was  in  possession  of  it 
by  train  time.  Next  day  at  the  Hotel  Atlas,  he  made  some  other 
changes  and  found  the  coat  a  perfect  fit.  It  would  just  answer 
the  purpose  he  wished,  for  it  could  quickly  be  reversed  from  a 
plain  black  to  a  light  colored  tweed. 

"If  I  could  only  rig  up  a  reversible  hat  of  some  kind,  I  would 
be  fixed.  I  must  take  no  chances  while  that  lawyer  is  here.  He 
is  a  foxy  old  'guy,'  and  might  smell  a  rat  and  put  'Scotland  Yards' 
next  to  me." 

Having  secured  two  heavy  flat  revolvers, of  a  late  make,  he 
returned  to  Chicago  and  spent  the  entire  night  studying  out  a 
plan  by  which  he  could  manufacture  a  reversible  hat,  and  still  have 
it  look  neat  and  stylish.  Daylight  peeped  in  at  the  window  before 
he  closed  his  eyes  in  sleep,  with  the  problem  still  unsolved ;  it  was 
the  first  thing  in  his  mind  upon  awakening.  It  followed  him  to  his 
late  breakfast.  Still  he  could  not  see  his  way  clear  to  a  success- 
ful accomplishment  of  this  ingenious  idea,  so  he  dismissed  it  for  a 
time,  but  did  not  give  it  up  entirely.  He  had  work  before  him.  He 
must  win  Dorris'  love  and  bring  about  a  marriage,  if  possible,  be- 
fore the  first  of  the  month,  for  that  would  be  about  the  time  the 
clock  would  tell  its  tale,  figuring  in  the  time  it  had  lost,  which 
he  calculated  was  nearly  three  days  in  all.  He  had,  after  careful 
consideration,  renounced  the  plan  of  again  obtaining  possession  of 
it;  he  decided  to  take  his  chances  with  Gordon,  although  the  dying 
words  of  the  old  nurse  kept  ringing  in  his  ears,  and  he  was  certain 
she  was  right,  and  certain  that  the  chances  were  against  him.  He 
had  decided  that  it  was  one  chance  in  as  many  thousand,  but  he 
had  also  decided  to  take  that  one  chance,  since  he  had  heard  the 
lawyer's  disclosure  regarding  the  second  mystery  it  contained. 

And  so  it  is  that  sometimes  the  minds  of  some  of  the  shrewd- 
est and  most  deeply  calculating  of  men  are  changed  to  suit  the 
purposes  of  fate.  He  decided  to  test  his  chances  with  Dorris  this 
very  day.  Attiring  himself  neatly,  he  was  soon  walking  along  the 
little  path  that  led  to  the  summer-house.  He  was  in  luck.  She 
was  reclining  on  a  seat,  in  the  summer-house,  enjoying  one  of  Wil- 
cox's  books  of  poems.  He  took  the  book  from  her  hand  and  pro- 
ceeded to  read  some  of  the  most  emotional  verses  while  she  listened 
enraptured,  for  his  voice  was  round,  soft  and  suggestive.  He  threw 
into  it  a  feeling  that  had  not  been  in  his  nature  since  his  youtii. 
So  they  chatted  and  read,  he  exerting  every  wile  in  his  oower  to 
hypnotize  her  with  his  wonderfully  magnetic  force  and  fan  the 
friendship  and  respect  she  had  for  him  into  love.  Her  naturally 
strong  mind  was  gradually  being  influenced  by  his  still  stronger  one, 


WICKED    CITY.  195 

UNCONTROLLED  PASSION. 

His  eyes  chained  hers;  she  could  hardly  resist  as  he  on  his 
knees  poured  out  his  passion  for  her  and  asked  her  to  become  his. 
She  allowed  him  to  take  her  two  hands  and  press  them  passion- 
ately to  his  lips.  She  seemingly  could  not  resist;  she  could  not 
tear  her  hands  away  to  hide  her  blushes,  neither  cculd  she  utter 
the  word  "no"  framed  in  her  throat.  He  pressed  her  to  speak  the 
one  word  that  would  make  him  the  hapniest  and  most  blessed  of 
men,  and  her  the  happiest  of  women.  His  eyes  burned  into  hers, 
his  breath  fanned  the  lace  at  her  throat.  With  a  pained  expression 
on  her  lovely  face,  she  tried  to  speak.  The  words  would  not  come. 
She  hardly  knew  her  own  mind  for  a  moment.  She  also  disliked 
to  give  pain  to  any  living  thing.  She  saw  he  was  so  earnest  in  his 
entreaties.  One  hot,  beseeching  word  followed  another  in  rapid 
succession  as  he  entreated  her  to  utter  one  little  word  in  reply. 
He  used  every  argument,  every  fond  expression  at  his  command, 
even  bringing  the  little  good  that  was  in  him  to  the  surface  to 
peep  out  and  bolster  up  his  most  clever  arguments  and  more  clever 
acting.  His  persuasive  power  was  grand.  Her  silence  boded 
good,  he  thought,  and,  thus  encouraged,  he  slipped  his  arm  around 
the  slender  waist  and  drew  her  to  him,  while  he  pressed  a  kiss 
upon  her  hair.  It  was  this  that  lost  the  day  for  him,  for  as  soon 
as  she  was  out  of  range  of  these  burning,  magnetic  eyes,  she  came 
out  of  the  trance-like  state  he  held  her  in,  and  with  a  stifled  cry 
tried  to  draw  back;  but  he  held  her  close  and  rained  kiss  after 
kiss,  not  only  on  her  hair,  but  her  eyes  and  cheeks.  Her  mouth 
also  did  not  escape  from  the  passionate  caresses.  He  had  lost  all 
control  over  himself  for  the  first  time  in  his  life.  He  forgot  all, 
only  that  he  loved  her,  and  he  had  her  in  his  arms.  She  grew 
weak  from  the  struggle  and  excitement.  This  was  evident  in 
her  voice,  as  she-cried  for  him  to  desist,  to  allow  her  to  go,  she 
could  not  be  his.  But  he  held  her  still  closer  and  pled  and 
prayed  her  to  unsay  the  words  she  had  just  uttered. 

"No !  No !  Robert,  I  cannot  be  your  wife.  If  you  love  me  as 
you  say,  let  me  go!" 

"No,  my  sweet  love,  you  must  not  go  from  these  arms  till 
you  promise  to  be  mine.  You  must  not  say  'no.'  My  love  over- 
powers me.  Is  there  another  who  would  give  you  such  love  as 
this?  No.  I  cannot  let  you  go,  my  Dorris,  my  sweet  Dorris.  Can 
you  turn  away  from  a  love  like  this  love  of  mine?  No,  you  shall 
not.  Promise  me,  darling,  promise  to  be  mine.  Your  life  shall 
always  be  one  happy  dream.  Say  the  little  word  that  will  make 
us  both  so  happy  for  all  time  to  come." 

"No.     Impossible." 

"Why  impossible,  dearest  one?     Why  impossible?" 

"I  don't  know  why  it  is,  but  if  is.     Something  tells  me  so." 

His  mad  passion  was  consuming  him.  He  had  lost  all  reason. 
The  lace  at  her  throat  was  disarranged,  disclosing  her  fair  bosom. 
Drawing  her  to  him,  in  spite  of  the  now  desperate  struggles,  he 


196  WICKED  CITY. 

glued  his  lips  to  hers,  drawing  in  the  sweet  breath  from  her  cure 
soul.  His  passion-inflamed  eyes  noticed  the  snowy  breast,  his  hot 
breath  scorched  the  tender  flesh  as  he  madly  pressed  kiss  after 
kiss  upon  it.  Her  hair  had  become  loosened  and  fell  about  her 
shapely  shoulders  in  picturesque  disorder.  Her  tender  brown  eyes 
had  a  frightened  and  pleading  expression  in  them,  as  she  begged 
him  to  release  her.  His  mad  passion  frightened  her  and  set  her 
heart  against  him.  In  her  struggles  to  release  herself  from  his. 
embrace,  she  regained  her  feet,  but  her  strength  gave  out  and 
she  fell  from  sheer  exhaustion  on  the  bench,  carrying  her  passion- 
crazed  persecutor  with  her.  And  it  is  hard  to  tell  how  far  this  awful 
uncontrollable  passion  would  have  carried  him  if  there  had  not  at 
this  moment  been  an  interruption.  The  gravel  crunched  as  a  foot 
pressed  it,  coming  along  the  path.  Robert  saw  the  shadow  cast  by 
a  figure  in  the  doorway,  but  he  heeded  not.  He  was  devoid  of 
reason,  his  passion  had  crazed  him  for  the  moment.  As  he  knelt, 
pressing  his  burning  kisses  upon  her  chaste  neck,  exposed  bosom 
and  face  so  fair  and  sweet,  a  strong  hand  grasped  his  collar  and 
he  was  thrown  through  the  door,  landing  on  his  back.  His  passion 
fired  with  love  now  took  the  form  of  anger.  There  wns  a  wicked 
look  in  his  inflamed  eyes  as  he  regained  his  feet.  He  stood  in 
the  door  for  a  moment  and  watched  the  scene  within  which  caused 
a  murderous  gleam  to  add  itself  to  the  wicked  look  already  there. 
Dorris  had  sprung  forward  into  the  arms  of  Gordon.  By  instinct, 
she  seemed  to  know  she  had  an  honorable  protection  in  him.  She 
was  still  weak  and  trembling  as  she  hnner  heavily  on  his  protecting 
arm,  while  with  the  other,  he  adiusted  the  lace  over  the  exposed 
bosom  and  fastened  it  at  the  milk-white  throat.  No  word  was 
spoken  until  he  turned  to  assist  her  to  the  cottage.  Their  eyes 
met  those  of  his  brother.  The  hate  and  revenge  to  be  seen  in 
them  was  offset  bv  the  sorrow,  compassion  and  pity  in  those  of 
Gordon.  Dorris  shrank  closer  to  her  rescuer  as  if  for  better  pro- 
tection. Seeing  this,  Robert's  anger  broke  its  bounds.  He  took 
a  step  forward. 

"You  meddler!"  he  hissed.  His  hand  stole  its  way  back  to 
the  butt  of  one  of  the  pistols  which  he,  for  some  reason,  now  wore 
at  all  times. 

"What !  You  would  kill  me,"  Gordon  cried,  "for  saving  you 
from  yourself  and  your  mad  folly?  You  should  thank  me  instead." 

The  hand  hesitated  but  still  fondled  the  handle  of  the  weapon. 

"Thank  you?  You?  And  what  have  I  to  thank  you  for?  Must 
I  thank  you  for  stealing  the  love  of  the  only  being  I  care  for? 
Thank  you  for  interfering  when  I  am  pleading  my  suit  and  thank 
you  for  laying  heavy  hands  on  me,  actuated  by  your  own  jealousy? 
You  take  advantage  of  my  position  to  creep  on  me  unawares  and 
tumble  me  in  the  dust  at  her  feet.  Then  you  expect  me  to  arise 
and  thank  you.  Oh,  no,  a  thousand  times  no.  I  hate  you,  my 
Christian  brother,  I  hate  you!  You— you — oh,  you  shall  pay  dearly 
for  this,  if  not  to-day,  there  are  other  days  coming,  and  I  swear 
some  of  them  shall  te  made  bitter  ones  for  you,  so  bitter  that  you 


WICKED   CITY.  197 

will  pray  for  death  to  release  you  from  the  awful  agony  and  suf- 
fering they  will  bring  you.  You  shall  grovel  in  the  dust  at  rny 
feet,  and  beg  of  me  to  end  the  miserable  life  you  are  so  afraid 
of  losing  now — a  life  that  I  now  give  you,  for  I  do  not  care  to 
distress  her,  the  only  thing  on  earth  I  love,  with  the  sight  of  your 
blood.  Oh,  you  little  know  the  demon  you  have  stirred  up  in  me ! 
I  give  you  your  life,  but  it  belongs  to  me.  Remember,  to  me.  And 
I  take  it  some  day  when  I  have  made  you  suffer  for  this  by  plant- 
ing gravestones  around  your  heart,  and  plant  one  at  your  head  as 
well." 

These  words  were  shot  out  rapidly  in  a  menacing  tone  while 
he  drove  meaning  and  conviction  with  every  word.  He  sank  them 
deep  into  the  hearts  of  Gordon  and  the  trembling  girl,  and  clinched 
them  with  a  manner  and  tone  which  was  convincing  to  his  listeners 
who  had  grown  white  and  distressed.  Gordon  spoke : 

"Robert,  you  will  certainly  think  better  of  those  words  when 
you  are  cool,  and  unsay  them.  You  are — " 

"I  mean  every  word  I  say,  and  what  is  more,  you  know  that 
I  mean  them.  You  also  know  that  I  have  given  you  your  _  life, 
and  knowing  this,  it  is  now  you  that  should  thank  me,  for  it  is  an 
article  dearer  to  you  than  the  lady  at  your  side." 

"Robert,  you  are  mistaken."  The  blood  leaped  to  Gordon's 
face  at  these  words,  but  he  reolied  in  as  quiet  a  tone  as  he  could 
command.  "I  am  truly  sorry  that  this  should  happen,  and  for  her 
sake,  I  suggest  that  we  discontinue  the  exchange  of  compliments 
as  you  can  see  it  distresses  her  greatly.  But  do  not  think  that  I 
am  a  coward,  because  I  am  considerate.  It  is  the  duty  of  any 
gentleman  to  moderate  his  actions  and  language  in  the  presence 
of  a  lady.  I  would  also  suggest,"  he  quietly  continued,  "that 
when  we  meet  in  the  parlor  shortly,  we  carry  no  evidence  of  this 
scene  with  us  in  our  bearing  towards  one  another  for  Mrs.  Waite 
is  a  lady  of  delicate  nerves.  Now,  then,  if  you  will  allow  us  to 
pass,  I  will  escort  Dorris  to  her  mother.  It  is  a  shame  to  sadden 
the  young  with  such  scenes  as  this." 

"Then  why  did  you  interfere?"  Robert  hissed. 

"It  was  my  duty,  as  a  brother  to  one,  and  a  friend  to  the 
other." 

"Friend,  indeed!  As  a  jealous,  would-be  lover,  you  mean," 
Robert  retorted. 

Gordon  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"I  do  not  wish  to  argue  the  question  with  you  in  her  presence. 
The  fact  that  you  took  advantage  of  her  and  broke  the  compact 
we  had  made  excluded  you  from  even  my  respect,  and  you  certainly 
cannot  regain  hers  by  continuing  this  most  unpleasant  conversation." 

Then  h  was,  as  the  curt  tone  fell  on  his  ear  and  he  saw  the 
aversion  in  Dorris'  eyes,  that  he  realized  that  he  had,  by  one 
fell  stroke,  lost  all,  all  chance  even  of  winning  the  resoect  of  the 
one  he  loved  so  desperately  and  passionately  as  to  forget  himself 
as  he  had  in  the  summer  house.  It  came  to  him  like  a  flash.  He 
blamed  Gordon.  His  hand  involuntarily  crept  around  and  again 


198  WICKED  CITY. 

fingered  the  handle  of  a  weapon,  while  his  eyes  burned  into  theirs 
and  they  expected  the  worst  to  happen.  But  the  best  happened 
instead.  He  half  drew  the  weapon,  shoved  it  back  into  his  pocket 
and  as  quickly  turned  and  struck  off  among  the  trees  They 
watched  his  retreating  form  until  they  could  see  him  no  more. 
Then  listened  to  his  footfalls  till  they  grew  fainter  and  fainter. 
As  the  last  sound  ceased,  Dorris  drew  a  long  sigh  of  relief,  gently 
withdrew  from  Gordon's  protecting  arm  and  made  her  way  to  the 
house,  with  head  bowed  under  the  first  sadness  of  her  life.  She 
found  her  way  unnoticed  to  her  room,  and  the  pent-up  tears  flowed 
while  heavy  sobs  racked  her  heaving  bosom,  so  lately  polluted  by  the 
lips  of  passion. 


A  "BREAK  O'  DAY"  GAMBLER  AND  WAGE  EARNERS  OF 
THE  "WICKED  CITY." 

That  evening  they  all  met  in  the  cozy  parlor,  and  passed  the 
time  with  simple  games  and  music.  Robert  was  politeness  itself. 
He  had  regained  his  wonted  coolness,  and  the  rest  failed  to  notice 
anything  unusual.  Dorris  was  slightly  confused  whenever  Robert 
addressed  a  remark  to  her,  which  he  did  quite  often,  seemingly  with 
some  ulterior  motive.  The  lawyer  was  in  excellent  spirits,  and 
was  the  life  of  the  little  party.  He  demonstrated  that  he  could  bt 
witty  as  well  as  genial.  He  was  loud  in  his  praises  of  the  so-called 
wicked  city  and  reluctantly  admitted  that  it  was  too  "swift"  for 
him.  Before  they  took  their  leave,  an  arrangement  was  made  to 
all  meet  in  the  city  and  take  a  box  at  the  opera.  This  was  agreed 
upon  by  some  with  fervor  and  others  with  slight  reluctance. 

Gordon  and  Dorris  slept  very  little  that  night.  Gordon  was 
greatly  troubled  about  his  brother.  Dorris  was  troubled  because 
she  held  a  secret  from  her  mother,  the  secret  of  the  summer  house 
scene,  and  the  secret  of  her  love  for  Gordon,  for  she  had  been 
obliged  to  admit  to  herself,  with  a  blush  and  a  throbbing  heart, 
that  she  loved  him,  and  loved  him  with  all  the  strength  of  her 
pure  nature,  a  love  that  could  never  be  destroved.  It  hid  been 
a  question  with  her  as  to  which  one  she  really  did  love,  knowing  that 
there  was  love  in  her  heart  for  one  or  the  other ;  but  is  was  decided 
by  the  events  of  the  evening,  events  which  had  changed  the  girl 
into  a  woman  and  shown  her  heart  its  ways. 

Robert  slept  not  at  all.  He  soent  the  night  at  the  "Owens- 
burg."  a  well-known  club  house.  Just  as  the  wage  earners  began 
to  stir  into  life  and  find  their  way  along  the  streets  to  their  dif- 
ferent places  of  emolovment  to  earn  their  way  by  honest  toil,  he 
stepped  out  and  joined  the  seething  mass  of  poor  humanity,  and 
was  carried  along  with  it  towards  his  quarters,  $1.500  loser. 

At  the  opera  th^t  evening  he  was  the  same  polite,  suave,  ?mU- 
ing  companion  of  the  former  davs.  but  there  was  something  in 
the  cynical  smile  which  olayed  around  his  mouth  during  the  whole 
evening  that  was  unfathomable,  even  to  the  shrewd  man  from 


WICKED   CITY.  199 

London  who  studied  his  face  at  intervals  during  the  play.  The 
face  and  play  engrossed  almost  an  equal  share  of  his  attention. 
The  play  held  few  charms  for  Robert.  Most  of  the  time  he  was 
watching  the  entranced  face  of  Dorris,  as  she  gazed  in  admiration 
at  the  stage  upon  which  was  placed  a  strong  and  affecting  drama 
to  which  was  given  life  and  reality  by  a  well-known  and  popular 
actress.  As  the  curtain  dropped  on  the  last  scene  there  was  a 
tear  trembling  on  the  lash  of  tender-hearted  and  sympathetic 
Dorris,  but  as  she  turned  and  met  the  eyes  of  the  brothers  fixed 
upon  her,  she  quickly  brushed  it  away,  arose  and  passed  out  with 
the  others  into  real  life  as  it  is  in  Chicago  just  after  the 
many  theaters  have  turned  their  thousands  and  thousands  of 
patrons  out  on  the  streets  to  mingle  with  the  late  pedestrians.  Robert 
bade  them  good  night  and  as  the  carriage  door  slammed,  dodged 
back  into  a  side  room  off  the  lobby.  Making  his  change,  he  pre- 
sented himself  at  the  club  to  try  and  retrieve  his  losses  of  the 
previous  night,  but  luck  was  against  him.  Eight  hundred  of  the 
ill-gotten  gains  followed  the  rest,  so  he  left  in  disgust,  cursing 
"faro  bank"  and  the  man  who  invented  it. 

The  following  day,  he  met  the  others  at  the  cottage  and  played 
the  part  his  double  life  required  of  him.  His  deportment  was 
perfection  and  there  were  three  of  the  assembly  who  were  puzzled 
and  at  a  loss  to  understand  him.  The  lawyer  knit  his  brows 
and  pondered.  Dorris  avoided  him  as  much  as  she  could  bin 
Gordon  failed  to  note  this.  The  questions  that  agitated  his  mind 
were,  "Does  she  love  Robert?"  "Was  she  a  willing  party  to  the 
scene  of  the  summer  house?"  He  could  not  believe  it,  but  still 
the  question  kept  crowding  in  between  his  better  thoughts  of  her, 
almost  poisoning  his  mind  against  her.  Then  he  would  rail  at 
himself  for  countenancing  the  thought  for  a  moment,  but  still  it 
would  return.  She  avoided  him  even  more  than  she  did  Robert. 
Had  he  done  Robert  a  wrong  in  humiliating  him  as  he  did?  Could 
it  be?  No,  he  had  done  right,  he  at  last  concluded.  If  a  fire  were 
consuming  those  he  loved,  it  was  his  duty  to  save  them,  even  if  it 
were  at  the  cost  of  their  good  will. 

Mrs.  Waite  suspected  nothing  and  little  dreamed  there  was  a 
secret  in  her  dutiful  daughter's  heart  she  did  not  share.  Tht 
lawyer  was  enjoying  American  hospitality  and  the  interest  he 
created  as  the  supposed  holder  of  a  secret,  which  he  firmly  be- 
lieved of  importance  to  all.  So  the  days  rolled  away,  swiftly  fo» 
some,  but  oh,  how  slowly  for  others ! 

The  28th  was  now  at  hand  and  all  gathered  together  in  the 
parlor.  They  expected  no  developments  the  first  day,  so  whiled 
away  the  time  with  music,  games  and  story-telling.  "The  man  in 
black"  entertained  them  with  many  anecdotes  and  some  mysteri- 
ous happenings  of  real  life.  He  would  occasionally  wedge  in  a 
ghost  story  and  during  the  narration  of  these  ghostly  tales  nothing 
could  be  heard  except  the  even  voice,  the  gentle  sighing  of 
the  wind  'through  the  large  pines  that  stood  in  front  of  the  house, 
like  sentinels  on  guard,  and  the  tick-tock  of  the  mysterious  clock 


200  WICKED  CITY. 

which  ticked  on  unconscious  of  the  fate  it  held  for  some  of  those 
silent  listeners.  The  story-teller  warmed  up  when  he  noticed  the 
impression  he  had  made,  and  reeled  them  off  in  profusion.  There 
was  also  a  sprinkling  of  witty  stories  which  raised  many  a  laugh. 
He  held  their  attention  hour  after  hour,  except  when  the  beautiful 
chimes  of  the  clock  interrupted ;  then  all  would  turn  and  watch  the 
figures  appear  and  disappear  with  abated  breath,  and  interest  most 
intense,  in  fact  almost  distressing,  even  horrifying  to  some  who 
just  began  to  realize  the  seriousness  of  the  affair.  To  think  that 
this  mechanical  apparatus,  designed  as  a  clock,  a  common  clock, 
could  speak  in  its  own  way  like  a  voice  from  the  grave  and  make 
one  of  these  stalwart  young  men  a  rich  land  owner  who  would 
be  respected,  feted  and  fawned  upon  by  the  world,  while  the 
olher  would  be  made  a  pauper,  an  outcast  from  society,  forced  into 
the  elements  his  birth  had  fitted  him  for,  to  seek  out  that  poor 
creature  who  was  responsible  for  his  existence  and  condition ! 

The  "Price  of  Crime"  is  certain  misery;  and  if  moral  laws 
are  broken,  it  will  bring  misery  to  some  and  generally  to  those  whose 
lives  and  happiness  depend  upon  the  evil  doer.  If  not  in  one 
generation,  in  another.  Men  sometimes  commit  one  sin  to  rectify 
another,  but  it  only  grafts  a  branch  onto  the  stalk  of  the  first  deeply 
rooted  sin  which  grows  on  and  on,  branching  out  thicker  and 
thicker,  year  after  year,  and  generation  after  generation,  until 
there  is  a  thick  foliage,  green  and  slimy,  full  of  corruption  which 
contaminates  the  innocent  who  pass  under. 


TRUE  SENTIMENT  AND  TRUE  LOVE. 

As  the  chimes  told  the  hour  of  midnight,  straws  were  drawn 
to  see  who  should  stand  the  first  night's  watch.  The  lawyer  had 
explained  that  two  witnesses  to  the  phenomenon  were  required, 
one  of  them  to  be  one  of  the  brothers.  The  first  night  fell  upon 
Robert  and  "the  man  in  black"  for  company,  so  the  others  retired 
and  arose  to  meet,  at  an  early  breakfast,  the  sleepy  watchers,  who 
shortly  afterward  turned  into  the  clean,  soft  beds  awaiting  them. 

Dorris  seemed  more  shy  of  Gordon  than  ever,  and  when  Mrs. 
Waite  left  them,  to  superintend  some  household  duties,  not  a  word 
passed  for  some  time.  She  was  gazing  at  the  wonderful  clock 
with  a  thoughtful  expression  on  her  lovely  face.  She  was  attired 
in  a  simple  morning  gown  of  some  soft  material  which  set  her  most 
perfect  form  off  to  good  advantage.  She  looked  so  irresistible  and 
suggestive  that  Gordon  thought  he  could  almost  excuse  Robert  for 
losing  his  head.  Her  clear  eyes  now  had  a  far-away  look.  As  he 
observed  her  more  closely  and  noted  the  steady  purity  of  expression, 
he  at  last  conquered  the  false  suspicion  and  forced  it  from  his 
thoughts.  It  was  impossible !  There  could  not  be  an  impure  thought 
in  that  shapely  head.  At  last  he  broke  the  silence. 

*'A  penny  for  you  thoughts,  Miss  Waite." 

She  started  and  turned  her  head.     A  blush  tinged  her  cheek, 


WICKED   CITY.  201 

making  this  picture  of  loveliness  complete.  She  was  too  truthful 
to  prevaricate,  and  replied: 

"I  was  wondering  which  one  the  beautiful  clock  is  going  to 
favor,  you  or  your  brother." 

"Do  you  care  so  much  then?"  His  voice  was  gentle  and 
earnest. 

She  ceased  rocking  and  looked  confused.  Seeing  this,  he  did 
not  press  her  for  an  answer,  but  said, 

"I  may  call  you  Dorris,  may  I  not?" 

She   replied   by   a   little  nod   of   her  head. 

"Well,  Dorris,  why  is  it  that  you  avoid  me  so  lately?  Are 
we  not  the  same  good  friends?" 

Another  little  nod. 

"You  seem  unhappy,  for  some  reason." 

No  reply,  but  her  eyes  sought  a  block  in  the  carpet  which 
she  seemed  to  study  intently.  Noting  this,  he  marshalled  his 
forces  and  asked  a  point-blank  question. 

"Dorris,  why  are  you  so  troubled?" 

She  raised  her  head,  and  her  clear  eyes  looked  into  his  as  she 
replied  in  a  tone  so  low  as  to  be  almost  unintelligible : 

"Mr.  Long—" 

"Call  me  Gordon,  as  you  used  to,  won't  you  please?" 

"Well,  Gordon,  I  hardly  know  myself.  There  is  a  feeling 
of  depression  upon  me,  a  sort  of  foreboding  of  evil  to  come.  But 
what  troubles  me  most,  I  believe,  is  that  I  hold  a  secret  not  shared 
by  dear  mother.  It  is  the  first  time  in  my  life  that  I  ever  possessed 
a  secret  she  did  not  share.  But  mother  thinks  so  much  of  you 
and  your  brother  that  I  dislike  to  distress  her  with  the  details 
of  the  scene  you  witnessed.  I  also  am  in  doubts  as  to  your  opinion 
of  me  since  that  awful  time." 

"And  why  do  you  doubt  my  good  opinion,  Dorris?" 

"I  believe  it  is  the  way  you  have  looked  at  me  lately  with 
those  eyes.  I  imagine  you  think  ill  of  me  and  believe  me  a  willing 
party  to  that  most  distressing  scene." 

Gordon  colored.  He  had  not  given  her  credit  for  possessing 
such  deep  intuitive  powers. 

"Ah,  Gordon,  I  see  by  your  face  that  I  am  right;  but  you 
wrong  me !  Yes,  indeed  you  do !" 

"Dorris.  I  did  not  know  you  were  so  close  an  observer;  but 
you  have  expressed  yourself  so  frankly  I  will  be  candid  in  return 
and  admit  that  a  faint  suspicion  did  steal  into  my  mind,  but  I 
assure  you,  Dorris,  I  have  conquered  it;  for  your  sweet,  truthful 
face  drove  it  away,  and  I  despise  myself  for  entertaining  the 
thought  for  a  moment.  I  heartily  apologize." 

With  one  knee  on  the  ottoman  at  her  tiny  feet  he  beseeched 
her  to  forgive  him.  She  grew  more  confused  and  started  to  rise, 
but  he  grasped  her  hand  and  detained  her. 

"Do  not  leave  me  this  way,  Dorris.  Tell  me  you  forgive  me. 
I  know  I  do  not  deserve  it.  I  beg  of  you  to  be  kind  and  have 
compassion." 


202  WICKED  CITY. 

"Ah,  well,  Gordon,  I  am  satisfied  that  in  your  heart  you 
meant  no  wrong,  therefore,  I  freely  forgive  you." 

He  raised  her  hand  to  his  lips  and  thanked  her. 

"The  indulgence  you  have  shown  me,  Dorris,  is  more  than  I 
deserve,  more  than  I  have  a  right  to  expect;  but,  Dorris,  if  you 
knew  all,  you  could  see  an  excuse  for  even  that." 

As  his  lips  touched  her  fair  flesh,  she  grew  more  restless 
and  again  started  to  rise,  but  again  he  gently  detained  her. 

"Dorris,  let  me  tell  you  all  that  you  should  know.  Will  you 
listen?" 

She  knew  her  voice  would  betray  agitation  if  she  spoke,  so 
she  again  nodded  her  consent. 

"Do  not  be  surprised  or  shocked  at  what  I  say,  but,  Dorris, 
I  love  you,  as  no  one  ever  can,  I  am  sure,  for  I  know  it  is  a  pure, 
holy  love.  My  brother  believed  that  he  loved  you  in  the  same 
spirit,  but  I  was  afraid  not.  We  have  known  each  others  secret 
for  some  time.  There  was  a  compact  made  between  us.  A  com- 
pact that  neither  one  was  to  breathe  our  love  to  you  until  it  was 
settled  who  was  to  be  heir.  The  heir  to  the  estates  was  to  be 
the  one  who  would  have  a  right  to  lay  his  love  at  your  feet." 

"And  the  other — the  one  who  would  be  left  poor — what  of 
him?" 

Her  voice  was  troubled,  she  was  interested. 

"Why,  he — why  yes,  he,  you  know — "  His  head  whirled  and 
he  became  confused  as  he  all  at  once  realized  what  it  would  be  if 
he  had  to  give  up  all  hope  of  winning  her  love,  to  go  away  and 
never  see  her  face.  The  awful  possibility  came  to  him  in  all  its 
force.  He  faltered  and  looked  at  her  with  appealing  eyes.  "God 
help  me,  Dorris !  He  would,  in  honor  bound,  be  obliged  to  go  forth 
a  wretched  man  for  life!  Yes,  Dorris,  to  a  life  of  misery,  for 
it  would  be  nothing  but  a  life  of  extreme  misery  if  it  proves  to 
be  I  who  is  to  breathe  another  air  then  years,  with  a  cloud  between 
us  through  which  a  rift  of  sunshine  could  never  creep  and  the 
light  of  your  dear  eyes  never  reach  me." 

Dorris  had  somewhat  regained  her  composure  and  something 
of  the  feeling  that  filled  Gordon's  heart  disturbed  her,  for  she 
loved  him  dearly.  To  never  see  him  again,  to  have  him  blotted 
out  of  her  life  entirely,  it  seemed  an  awful  calamity,  but  she  could 
hardly  understand  why  this  should  be.  Even  if  he  were  to  be  a 
poor  man,  she  would  love  him  just  as  much,  and  she  had  a  little 
dowery  of  her  own  which  they  could  start  the  world  on.  There 
was  a  sad  ring  in  her  voice  as  she  said: 

"Gordon,  you  have  surprised  me,  and  I  am  afraid  I  hardly 
understand  you;  and  I  am  also  afraid  that  you  still  persist  in 
misunderstanding  my  character  and  disposition.  Gordon,  do  you 
suppose  it  would  make  any  difference  in  my  answer  whether  a 
man  were  rich  or  poor?  Ah,  my  friend,  Gordon,  you  do  me_  an 
injustice!  If  I  loved  a  man,  it  would  matter  little  whether  he  be 
a  prince  with  millions  or  the  poorest  of  the  many  poor  people  of 
this  great  city.  No,  no,  Gordon,  even  if  one  had  health,  strength 


WICKED   CITY.  203 

and  beauty  with  his  millions  and  the  other  were  a  confirmed  invalid, 
with  nothing  but  his  broken-down  body,  which  holds  the  soul  within, 
it  would  make  no  difference  in  my  answer,  if  I  loved  him." 

Gordon  was  pleased  and  surprised  to  hear  such  beautiful  words 
of  sentiment.  It  showed  a  depth  of  feeling  and  thought  he  had 
given  few  the  credit  of  possessing. 

"Dorris,  your  words  show  the  spirit  of  a  true  woman.  I  know 
that  you  are"  everything  that  is  noble,  true  and  good.  Your  sup- 
position that  this  would  be  the  reason  why  the  unfortunate  one 
would  not  have  a  right  to  lay  his  love  at  your  feet,  is  only 
natural,  but  that  is  not  the  reason.  I  only  wish  it  were.  I  said 
I  would  tell  you  all.  I  spoke  in  haste,  without  thinking.  It  is 
impossible  to  tell  you  all.  If  I  could,  you  would  readily  under- 
stand why  it  is  one  of  us  would  have  to  be  banished  from  the  light 
of  your  eyes,  never  to  look  upon  your  face  again,  unless  it  were 
from  afar,  as  one  would  gaze  up  at  a  star  in  the  beautiful  heavens." 

"Gordon,  you  speak  so  strangely.  I  cannot  understand  it  at 
all  and  I  am  still  afraid  that  you  are  only  trying  to  be  generous 
by  not  offering  me  a  poor  man's  lot.  Why  have  you  told  me  this?" 

"Why  have  I  told  you  this?  Because  I  love  you  too  well  to 
keep  more  of  the  truth  from  you  than  it  is  possible  to  divulge 
since  my  poor  brother  broke  our  pledge  in  the  way  he  did." 

She  meditated,  while  her  hand  still  rested  in  his  warm  clasp. 

"Gordon,  you  say  you  love  me?" 

•'Yes,  I  do  love  you,  child,  and  it  is  with  all  my  heart.  It  is 
a  love  born  never  to  die,  and  to  call  you  by  the  dear  name  ot 
wife,  darling,  is  the  ambition  of  my  life,  and  it  will  be  one  of  the 
happiest  moments  of  my  life  if  the  time  comes  when  I  shall  have 
the  right  to  lay  my  love  at  your  feet." 

"Have  you  not  the  right  to  speak  of  love  to  me  if  I  choose  to 
listen  whether  you  be  a  poor  man  or  a  rich  man?" 

"Dorris,  if  the  clock  ticks  me  off  a  beggar,  I  have  no  right 
to  speak  with  you  even  as  a  friend.  And,  God  help  me,  I  would 
never  enter  your  saintly  presence !" 

"Then,  Gorden,  I  pray  you  to  take  my  answer  now.  It  may 
not  be  exactly  what  your  English  ladies  do,  but  I  am  an  American 
girl,  and  I  believe  it  is  my  duty  to  lay  all  reserve  aside  and  to 
tell  you,  mv  noble  Gordon,  that  I  love  you  with  my  whole  heart." 

"Ah,  child,  you  love  me!  It  is  Heaven  itself  to  hear  you  say 
so,  but,  sweet  Dorris,  my  darling,  you  must  not  give  me  an  answer, 
not  yet — I  have  no  right  until — until — " 

"Until  now,  Gordon,  now  is  the  time  and  the  only  time — 
unless  you  proved  to  be  a  poor  man,  for  if  you  become  the  heir, 
I  could  not  listen  to  you  then.  No,  let  me  go  on.  I  love  you, 
Gordon,  and  am  willing  to  be  your  wife  if  you  wish,  even  to-mor- 
row, before  it  is  known  whether  or  not  you  are  rich  or  poor." 

"No,  child,  I  cannot  allow  you  to  sacrifice  yourself." 

"But  Gordon,  I  insist.  My  answer  must  be  taken  before  the 
clock  ticks  off  the  secret,  or  never,  unless  it  leaves  you  poor.  1 


S04  WICKED  CITY. 

have  a  small  dowery  of  my  own.     It  is  not  much,  but  enough  to 
live  on." 

This  nobility  of  heart  almost  overcame  him.  They  were  stand- 
ing now,  and  he  took  her  lovely  face  between  his  two  hands  and 
looked  into  those  honest  brown  eyes,  so  clear  and  earnest.  He  saw 
there  all  that  would  make  a  man  happy.  He  pressed  a  tender  kiss 
on  her  soft  cheek.  Of  a  sudden  the  thought  came  to  her  that 
she  had  acted  unwomanly  by  thus  offering  herself  to  Gordon,  and 
her  head  bowed  itself  until  it  touched  his  broad  shoulder;  but  he 
understood  the  true  sentiment  that  had  actuated  her  regarding  this. 
A  tear  trembled  for  a  moment  on  the  eyelash  of  this  great-hearted 
man  and  fell  on  the  strand  of  hair  his  lips  had  pressed. 

THE  JESTER'S   BELLS.     A  THREAT. 

They  were  not  alone.  A  figure  in  the  doorway  with  clinching 
hands  and  spreading  fingers,  as  if  they  were  aching  to  destroy  life, 
now  advanced  into  the  room,  the  footfalls  being  dead_ened  by  the 
thick  carpet.  It  was  Robert,  who,  having  dozed  some  during  the  night 
on  the  comfortable  lounge,  was  fully  refreshed  by  a  two  hours' 
nap  after  breakfast.  He  could  see  enough  to  satisfy  himself  that 
the  only  hope  left  to  win  her  now  was  in  his  becoming  the  heir, 
for  then  Gordon,  with  his  fine  principles,  would  be  out  of  the 
field.  He  stopped  a  pace  behind  them.  There  wss  murder  in  his 
eyes  as  he  looked  upon  these  true  hearts.  His  hands  spread  like 
a  pair  of  claws.  He  half  extended  them  as  if  to  encircle  the  neck 
of  hi3  brother  and  crush  his  life  out ;  but  they  drooped  at  his  side, 
only  to  finger  longingly  and  caressingly  the  pistol  he  carried,  as 
if  there  was  an  itching  to  use  it  and  wipe  this  obstacle  from  his 
path.  But  with  an  effort  he  regained  himself  and  in  a  composed 
voice  broke  the  silence. 

"Ah,  a  very  pretty  picture." 

They  both  started  and  turned  in  the  direction  of  that  voice 
which  rang  in  their  ears  like  a  stiletto  striking  a  heart  of  stone. 
Robert's  face  was  a  mask  to  Dorris  who  could  not  read  it,  but 
the  old  feeling  of  fear  came  over  her  as  she  gazed  at  him  with 
startled  eyes.  There  was  a  foreboding  of  the  evil  to  come. 

"Exucse  me  for  intruding  and  snoiling  such  a  pretty  picture. 
Oh,  you  need  not  look  so  frightened,  Miss  Waite,  I  am  not  jealous. 
Oh,  no,  not  at  all,  I  can  assure  you,  for  you  know  turn  about  is 
fair  play.5' 

"Robert,  why  are  you  so  bitter?  What  do  you  mean?"  Gordon 
had  replied  for  her.  "What  do  you  mean  bv  'turn  about/?" 

A  diabolical  smile  lit  up  his  face.  "Why,  my  meaning  is  clear 
enough,  I  should  think,  if  you  take  into  consideration  the  little 
scene  you  so  ungenerously  interrupted  in  the  summer  house,  and 
this  scene  here,  which  I  am  truly  sorry  for  interrupting  before 
it  got  really  good,  you  know.  As  I  said  before,  'turn  about  is 
fair  play.'  Next  time  it  will  be  my  turn  to  share  the  lady's  favors." 


WICKED   CITY.  205 

The,  tone  in  which  these  words  were  uttered  and  the  meaning 
which  accompanied  them,  caused  the  girl's  heart  to  smother  and 
Gordon's  manhood  to  assert  itself.  Drawing  himself  up,  he  said 
in  a  Ft~rn  voice: 

"Robert,  I  shall  have  to  ask  you  to  use  different  language, 
accompanied  by  a  different  tone  of  voice  when  you  address  Miss 
Waite  after  this." 

"You  _  have  not  heard  Miss  Waite  object  to  my  language  or 
conduct  either,  have  you?" 

"No,  but  she  does  object,  and  I  will  have  to  ask  you  to,  be 
more  careful  in  the  future." 

"Well,  as  to  that,  I  cannot  promise  anything  to  you  as  her 
self-appointed  champion.  To  her,  of  course,  I  could  deny  nothing. 
I  do  not  say  much  as  a  general  rule,  but  what  I  do  say  I  generally 
mean.  I  can  afford  to  be  generous  now,  for  it  will  be  my  turn 
next.  Turn  about  is  fair  play,  but  the  one  that  gets  the  last  turn, 
my  Christian  brother,  is  generally  the  one  that  has  the  best  of  it. 
Remember,  it  is  my  turn  next.  Is  my  meaning  plain  enough?" 

"Yes,  only  too  plain;  but  you  are  mistaken  or  certainly  jesting;" 

"A  'jester'  generally  wears  a  fool's  cap  with  bells,  that  jingle 
as  he  laughs  at  his  own  poor  jokes.  Do  you  hear  me  laugh?  No. 
Do  you  hear  any  bells  jingle?  No,"  replied  Robert. 

"No,  but  if  you  wish  to  come  later  on  to  our  wedding,  you 
may  hear  bells,  for  I  am  to  be  married  to  the  belle  of  Sunnyside 
if — "  Here  Gordon  hesitated. 

"If  what?" 

"Oh,  I  had  forgotten." 

"Ah,  ha!  Got  stuck  at  the  'if/  did  you?  It  is  a  very  small 
word,  but  it  has  stopped  the  carrying  out  of  mightier  plans  than 
yours.  It  is  a  word  you  ought  to  think  of  often,  it  is  a  word  you 
ought  to  get  framed  and  hung  between  you  and  the  'belle  of  Sunny- 
side,'  anyway.  I  will  see  that  the  little  innocent  word  'if  stays 
between  you,  making  a  barrier  so  high  you  will  not  wish  to  climb 
it.  You  do  not  hear  any  bells  jingling  do  you?" 

"No,  but,  my  poor  brother,  your  language  and  actions  have 
opened  wonders  to  my  gaze  and  I  see  all." 

"See  all?  Oh,  no,  my  dear  brother,  not  all,  for  if  you  did  see 
all  that  is  contained  here"  (he  struck  his  breast,  then  thrust  his 
hand  out  as  though  pointing  to  the  future)  "and  all  that  is  before 
you,  your  eyes  would  freeze  in  your  head,  your  jaw  drop  on  your 
chest,  under  which  would  be  a  heart  turned  to  stone.  Do  you 
understand  my  meaning?  You  don't?  Well,  when  it  does  dawn 
upon  you  it  will  be  like  an  avalanche  burying  you  beneath.  My 
meaning  will  manifest  itself  in  time." 

He  looked  around  to  assure  himself  that  Dorris  was  gone,  and 
then  leaning  towards  his  brother  hissed: 

"The  girl  shall  be  mine,  marriage  or  no  marriage.  Your  life, 
remember,  belongs  to  me,  also.  I  gave  it  to  you  at  a  time  when  I 
had  a  right  to  take  it,  so  it  is  mine  to  make  as  miserable  as  I 
wish,  and  mine  to  take  back  again  as  I  choose.  But  I  am  going 


206  WICKED   CITY. 

to  play  this  game  out  with  you,  I  know  my  cards  from  'soda  to 
hock.' " 

"Robert,  your  talk  is  crazy !" 

"Rather  too  'conslosterous'  for  your  'conslosterbility.'  Can't 
you  'twig'  the  gab?  You  asked  me  to  use  different  language.  I 
have  tried  to,  but  it  seems  too  copious  for  your  diminutive  compre- 
hension. Do  you  hear  any  bells?  You  don't?  Well,  I  am  going 
to  take  a  stroll  in  the  air  and  see  if  I  can  get  up  an  appetite  for 
dinner.  M<rs.  Waite  has  an  excellent  cook.  I  hope  my  soothing 
words  have  given  you  a  good  appetite.  I  would  ask  you  to  join  me, 
but  I'm  afraid  that  two  such  sinners  as  we  would  poison  the  gentle 
ozone;  but  if  you  hear  any  bells  jingling,  you  will  know  I'm  enjoy- 
ing one  of  my  own  'Joe  Millers.' " 

With  a  hard  laugh  that  froze  Gordon's  blood  he  passed  out. 

DORRIS  CONFIDES  IN  HER  MOTHER. 

Gordon  dropped  into  the  nearest  chair,  all  perspiration,  and  sat 
in  gloomy  meditation.  He  was  only  aroused  when  Dorris,  a  short 
time  later,  came  softly  in  and  laid  her  hand  on  his  bowed  head. 
He  looked  up  and  forced  a  smile  as  he  took  the  little  hand  of  the 
gentle  girl  and  said: 

"Dorris,  you  would  comfort  me  and  share  my  sorrows  already. 
You  are  indeed  a  noble  girl,  and  as  such,  dear  one,  I  ask  you  to  try 
and  forgive  my  brother  for  his  rough  speech  and  actions." 

"For  your  sake,  Gordon  dear,  I  would  do  anything.  Why  does 
he  act  and  talk  so  strangely?  I  fail  to  understand  him." 

"No  more  can  I,  dear  one.  Now  do  not  worry  your  pretty 
little  head,  but  let  us  cheer  each  other  up  with  a  little  music.  I 
see  Mr.  Burns  is  up  and  strolling  about  with  him." 

So  they  endeavored  to  shake  off  the  unpleasant  feelings  of  com- 
ing evil  which  disturbed  both. 

At  12 :  00  o'clock  all  assembled  and  after  watching  the  clock 
as  it  struck  the  hour,  retired  to  the  dining-room.  Robert  was  polite 
to  all.  He  even  entertained  them  with  stories  well  told,  and  the 
meal  passed  very  pleasantly  in  spite  of  the  undercurrent  of  feeling 
in  the  breasts  of  some.  Returning  to  the  parlor  just  as  the  clock 
began  to  strike,  they  all  gathered  around  it  as  they  did  at  all  times 
while  the  'striking  of  the  hour,'  during  the  day,  but  the  event- 
ful hour  came  not.  The  evening  was  passed  much  the  same  as  the 
previous  one.  The  following  day,  Dorris,  after  a  restless  night, 
climbed  into  her  mother's  lap  as  she  used  to  do  when  she  was  a 
little  girl,  and  there  on  her  breast,  with  her  arms  around  the  dear 
lady's  neck,  sobbed  out  all  her  troubles.  But  when  she  had  fin- 
ished and  glanced  up  into  her  face,  wondering  why  she  had  not  as 
yet  spoken,  she  was  frightened  at  the  deathly  look  she  saw  there. 

"Mother  dear,  I  am  sorry  to  have  pained  you,  but  I  could  not 
keep  my  secrets  from  you  any  longer." 

Her  mother's  face  showed  distress  and  horror  of  some  future 


WICKED  CITY.  207 

possibility  as  she  pressed  a  kiss  on  her  daughter's  brow  to  reas- 
sure her. 

"My  little  girl,  are  you  sure  that  you  love  him  as  you  should 
love  an  intended  husband?  Is  there  a  chance  that  you  could  learn 
to  love  the  other  as  well?" 

Dorris  shuddered.     The  old  feeling  of  dread  came  back  to  her. 

"No,  mother,  I  like  Robert  as  a  brother  only." 

Her  mother  started.  "I  know  my  own  mind,  dear  mother,  and 
I  am  sure  I  love  Gordon  dearly,  and  my  life  would  be,  oh,  so  mis- 
erable without  him !  Why  do  you  look  so  scared  and  white,  mother 
dear?  Is  it  wrong  to  love  him?  Is  he  not  all  that  is  good  and 
gentlemanly?" 

"Yes,  he  is  a  noble  man,  and  well  worthy  of  you,  dear,  but  I 
am  not  sure  that  you  have  a  right  to  love  him." 

"Why  not?     Is  he  engaged  to  another?" 

"No,  no,  dear,  his  heart  is  free.  He  requested  of  me  the  priv- 
ilege of  suing  for  your  hand  long  ago,  providing  he  became  the 
heir.  And  Dorris,  my  child,  pray  to  the  good  Lord,  as  you  have 
never  prayed  before,  that  he  may  be  the  heir;  for  if  it  proves  any 
other  way  your  life  as  well  as  his  will  be  ruined.  You  and  he  could 
never  marry.  So  retire  to  your  room,  dear  child,  and  pray  that 
Gordon  may  be  his  father's  heir.  I  will  do  likewise.  I  believe  a 
great  deal  in  prayers.  They  have  helped  your  poor  mother  over 
many  rough  places  along  the"  uneven  path  of  life  these  many  years." 

"Darling  mother,  I  am  surprised  and  grieved  to  find  that  you 
are  so  avaricious  as  to  wish  me  to  pray  for  a  wealthy  husband. 
From  this  time  on,  mother,  I  can  not  listen  to  you  or  obey  you  as 
of  yore,  except  in  this  instance,  and  then  I  can  only  obey  you  in  part. 
You  wish  me  to  retire  to  my  chamber  and  pray."  She  arose.  "I 
go,  and  pray  I  will,  fervently  too,  but  not  that  my  intended  husband 
may  be  a  rich  man,  instead,  my  poor  mother,  I  will  pray  for  you." 

"For  me,  you  say,  child?" 

"Yes,  for  you,  mother,  for  I  still  love  you  and  always  will.  I 
shall  pray  that  God  may  cleanse  your  poor  heart  from  such  penu- 
rious ideas." 

"My  God !  This  is  too  hard !  My  own  daughter  doubts  me ! 
You  do  me  a  great  injustice  in  believing  that  my  motives  are  mer- 
cenary. Indeed,  daughter,  you  know  net  how  greatly  you  wrong 
me.  Oh,  if  you  knew  all !  Child,  there  are  other  reasons." 

"Then,  mother  dear,  tell  me  of  them." 

"You  do  not  know  what  you  ask,  child.  What  you  ask  is 
utterly  impossible.  Wait  until  after  the  clock  gives  up  its  secret. 
You  may  be  hapoy  yet.  He  mav  be  the  heir,  and  unless  he  is  the 
heir  we  must  be  left  miserable  for  all  time  with  blasted  love  in  your 
heart  and  deadly  remorse  in  mine.  Yes,  dear  child,  it  must  be  even 
so,  unless  he  proves  to  be  the  heir,  in  which  case  you  can  marry 
and  be  happy  ever  after,  for  he  will  make  a  noble  and  generous 
husbnnd." 

Dorris  still  persisted  in  misunderstanding  her  mother,  which 
yas  only  natural  under  the  circumstances  and  replied: 


208  WICKED  CITY. 

"By  'generous'  you  mean,  I  suppose,  that  he  would  shower 
wealth  upon  me?" 

A  pained  expression  crossed  her  mother's  face. 

"Oh,  no,  believe  me,  dear,  that  is  not  the  reason." 

Dorris  backed  away  and  looked  at  her  mother's  troubled  face 
with  eyes  of  suspicion  and  mistrust  for  the  first  time  in  her  life. 

"I  am  going  now,  mother,  to  my  chamber  where  I  will  pray 
long  and  earnestly  for  you,  that  God  may  remedy  this  change  in 
your  heart." 

"My  child,  you  still  doubt  my  motives.  Ah,  Dorris,  do  not 
pass  judgment  on  me  yet.  Wait,  he  may  be  the  one.  I  almost 
believe  he  will,  and  then — " 

"My  answer,  mother,  has  been  given.  We  will  be  married, 
though  he  be  poor  or  rich.  It  is  all  the  same  to  me,  and  the  only 
cloud  on  my  life  will  be  in  the  future  when  I  remember  this  hour 
which  has  forced  me  to  believe  that  my  own  dear  mother,  whom  I 
love  so  dearly,  has  a  sordid  spot  in  her  heart." 

She  turned  and  pressed  a  kiss  on  her  mother's  horrified  face, 
and  glided  out.  The  mother  arose  and  stretched  out  her  arms  in 
the  direction  of  her  retreating  form  with  a  cry  on  her  lips  that 
spoke  of  the  agony  within.  Then  she  fell  on  her  knees  by  the 
chair  in  silent  prayer. 

"My  punishment  has  come.  I  pray  you,  O  Lord,  to  guide  mat- 
ters in  the  right  way,  that  I  may  be  blessed  in  the  love  of  two  sons, 
and  bring  back  to  me  the  love  of  my  daughter,  to  secure  her  hap- 
piness." 

It  was  a  strange  prayer  offered  up  in  such  earnestness  and 
good  faith.  Gordon  entered.  He  waited  with  bowed  head  until 
she  arose  to  her  feet.  Seeing  the  pain  in  her  face,  he  said : 

"Madam,  I  see  that  you  are  deeply  troubled  regarding  some- 
thing. Is  it  about  what  I  came  to  tell  you,  I  wonder?" 

"I  believe  it  is,  Gordon.  Dorris  has  told  me  that  you  have 
both  discovered  and  disclosed  your  love  for  each  other.  I  am  going 
to  my  room  now  to  lie  down  for  a  while.  I  hope  that  you  will 
excuse  me." 

"Certainly,  dear  madam,  by  all  means.  A  good  sleep  will  be 
of  great  benefit  to  you  in  your  present  distressed  state  of  mind." 

"When  I  collect  my  thoughts,  Gordon,  I  would  like  to  talk 
with  you." 

"Madam,  I  already  know  what  you  would  say,  so  do  not  dis- 
tress yourself  further.  I  understand  what  you  wish,  and  your 
wishes  regarding  the  matter  shall  be  considered." 

Somewhat  assured  and  comforted,  she  retired.  Gordon  joined 
the  others  in  the  parlor,  to  wait  and  wait  on.  The  suspense  was 
telling  on  him.  He  threw  himself  into  a  rocker  and  intently 
watched  Robert  playing  chess  in  the  alcove  with  the  lawyer,  who 
was  _  emitting  a  dreary  whistle  from  his  lips  as  he  alternately 
studied  and  moved  his  men  about.  They  played  on  and  on,  only 
glancing  up  as  the  clock  began  to  strike.  Even  then  the  "man  in 
black"  did  not  discontinue  the  soothing,  but  dreary  and  monotonous 


WICKED  CITY.  209 

strains.  At  last  Gordon  dozed  until  dinner  was  announced.  At 
the  table  they  were  all  that  good  breeding  required.  Light  sub- 
jects were  the  order  while  their  secret  troubles  and  forebodings 
were  buried  in  their  hearts  for  the  time  being.  Here  was  another 
thing  that  the  London  lawyer  was  obliged  to  admit  to  himself, 
regarding  American  hospitality,  while  at  the  table  pleasant  sub- 
jects accompanied  by  pleasant  faces  reigned  supreme.  He  had  also 
dropped  many  of  the  affected  airs  which  characterized  him  on  his 
arrival.  He  had  met  with  so  many  matter-of-fact  people  that  he 
found  it  policy. 

The  table  was  neatness  itself  and  was  loaded  down  with  all 
the  delicacies  of  the  early  season.  The  glasses  were  French  cut, 
the  china  of  the  finest,  while  the  flat  and  hollow  ware  was  of  solid 
silver,  in  keeping  with  the  other  elegant  furnishings  of  this  model 
American  home.  Everything,  in  fact,  denoted  refinement  and  taste. 
The  lawyer  greatly  wondered ;  for  this  unpretentious  cottage,  off 
by  itself  in  nature's  haunts,  was,  he  reluctantly  admitted  to  him- 
self, furnished  more  richly  and  tastefully  than  many  palaces  pre- 
sided over  by  the  lord  and  the  lady  in  his  own  city  of  London. 
Course  after  course  was  served  by  the  cook  who  was  maid-of-all- 
work  as  well,  for  they  only  employed  one  servant  besides  the  man 
who  took  care  of  the  grounds  and  stable.  He  was  the  head  gar- 
dener, stable-boy  and  coachman,  all  in  one.  They  were  both  good, 
faithful  servants,  having  been  in  the  family  some  time. 

Soon  a  large,  cld-fasioned  pumpkin  pie  was  served,  hot  and 
steaming.  While  discussing  this,  the  lawyer  recalled  his  boyhood 
days  and  a  mill  pond  near  his  father's  place.  It  put  him  in  mind 
of  a  great  pumpkin  pie.  and  he  said  that  he  often  wished  it  were  so 
he  could  get  right  in  the  middle  of  it  and  eat  his  way  out.  The 
laugh  which  followed  was  interrupted  by  the  chimes  of  the  clock  as 
its  clear  tones  reached  their  ears.  They  all  arose  with  one  accord, 
excuses  not  being .  necessary,  for  the  table  alone  with  the  remains 
of  a  good  old  American  meal  was  all  that  was  left  in  the  circle  of 
vacated  chairs.  Robert,  for  once,  seemed  as  eager  as  the  rest  for 
he  was  speculating  on  the  one  faint  chance  left  him.  His  mind 
had  undergone  a  slight  change,  and  for  a  moment  experienced  real 
home  life  again  with  these  good  souls  gathered  around.  Yes,  he 
could  be  a  different  man,  so  he  thought,  if  Dorris  could  preside 
ever  a  home  like  this  for  him.  It  goes  to  show  the  power  of  a  beau- 
tiful woman  and  home  life.  A  good  home  presided  over  by  a  good 
woman  has  been  the  means  of  snatching  many  a  burning  brand 
from  the  fire. 

THE    FATAL   HOUR   ARRIVES.    MRS.    WAITE'S   AGONY. 

The  company  had  reached  the  parlor  and  were  all  gathered 
around  the  clock  in  a  half  circle.  Before  the  beautiful  chimes  had 
ceased  to  give  way  to  the  deep  toned  little  bell  that  was  the  signal 
for  them  to  look  with  all  their  eyes  for  the  appearance  of  the  little 
puppets  that  were  to  take  their  hourly  promenade  to  the  cathedral, 


210  WICKED  CITY. 

by  intuition,  they  felt  the  fatal  hour  was  at  hand.  All  was  con- 
fusion for  a  moment,  then  every  voice  was  stilled.  Only  the  sup- 
pressed breathing  of  the  watchers  and  the  deep  notes  of  the  little 
bell  accomoanied  by  the  tick-tock  of  the  clock  itself  could  be  heard 
as  the  faithful  figures  appeared  at  the  doorway  and  began  to  move, 
only  to  stop  one-third  of  the  way  on  their  hourly  journey  to  the 
miniature  cathedral.  The  watchers  fairly  held  their  breath  as  they 
waited.  Mrs.  Waite  was  holdirg  the  magnifying  glass  in  her  trem- 
bling hand,  and  was  gazing  through  it  with  eyes  distended,  while 
her  face  was  the  color  of  chalk.  Her  lips  moved  in  a  whispered 
prayer.  The  two  brothers  stood  erect  and  firm,  with  tightly  com- 
pressed lips,  like  men  who  were  well  prepared  to  meet  their  fate. 
Dorris  was  watching  her  mother  with  a  puzzled  expression,  while 
the  lawyer  watched  everything  with  keen  satisfaction,  dividing  his 
attention  alternately  between  the  puppets  and  the  figures  of  real 
life.  It  was  a  moment  of  intense  interest  to  all.  Even  the  lawyer 
failed  to  adjust  his  glasses.  The  snowy  napkin  was  still  tucked 
under  his  left  ear  and  he  was  rubbing  his  hand  through  his  scanty 
hair.  At  last  he,  as  well  as  the  rest,  could  not  help  but  notice 
Mrs.  Waite's  extreme  agitation.  But  now  the  bell  had  ceased  and 
the  puppets  held  every  eye.  All  pressed  nearer.  They  hardly 
expected  the  little  bell  to  cease  until  the  day  of  the  month  was 
chronicled  as  usual ;  neither  had  they  expected  to  see  the  little  fig- 
ures halt  at  this  spot,  as  the  lawyer  had  assured  them  they  were 
to  stop  exactly  in  front  of  the  gold  dial.  A  minute  was  registered 
by  the  silver  hand,  still  the  figures  stood  motionless.  In  an  awed 
whisper  Mrs.  Waite  asked  a  question  of  the  lawyer  at  her  side,  a 
question  which  he  was  unable  to  answer,  seemingly,  and  merely 
shook  his  head.  The  interest  was  now  so  intense  that  they  did  not 
hear  the  two  servants  enter  the  room,  which  they  did  and  stood 
near  the  door  in  respectful  attitude.  Dr.  Warder,  the  family  physi- 
cian, who  was  passing,  dropped  in  to  request  Dorris  to  visit  one  of 
his  patients  in  the  way  of  charity,  as  she  often  did  when  they  were 
in  distress  and  needy,  earning  for  herself  the  name  of  "Lady  Boun- 
tiful," a  title  that  suited  her  well  for  she  was  as  good  at  heart  as 
she  was  beautiful.  The  servant  announced  him,  but  in  spite  of  the 
respect  he  was  held  in,  not  an  eye  turned  from  the  spot  that  held 
their  attention.  They  were  like  persons  in  a  trance.  Dorris  told 
the  kindly  doctor  to  draw  near  as  he  was  just  in  time  to  witness 
a  wonderful  event.  She  spoke  in  a  low,  hushed  tone,  like  one  in 
the  chamber  death  had  made  sacred.  Having  met  the  gentlemen 
present,  he  readily  joined  the  circle  and  watched  with  the  others 
with  interest,  too,  for  he  had  heard  from  Dorris  (as  far  as  she 
knew)  the  history  of  the  wonderful  clock  he  had  noticed  on  a  pre- 
vious visit.  Mrs.  Waite  was  growing  more  and  more  agitated  as 
the  minutes  passed,  bringing  with  them  no  further  ^movements  of 
the  little  figures.  Onlv  five  minutes  passed,  still  it  seemed  like 
hours.  Her  trembling  hand  refused  to  hold  the  glass.  She  relin- 
quished it  to  the  "man  in  bbck"  who  peered  through  it  with  puzzled 
and  apprehensive  expression,  for  he  was  much  afraid  the'  clock 


WICKED   CITY.  211 

would  at  last  fail  to  perform  the  offices  he  expected  of  it,  giving  out 
at  the  last  minute  like  a  good  horse  in  the  "stretch,"  failing  to 
reach  the  stake  by  a  nose.  The  tick-tock  was  all  that  could  be 
heard.  Gordon  was  about  to  answer  a  whispered  question  from  the 
interested  and  genial  doctor  when  there  was  a  sound  like  that 
caused  by  the  winding  of  a  watch.  This  stopped  at  intervals  and 
then  was  repeated.  Gordon,  in  a  whisper,  asked  the  doctor  his 
opinion  of  this. 

"  "Well,   I   should   judge   there   was   a   little   storage   battery  at 
work  upon  the  inside." 

The  lawyer  caught  the  reply  as  low  as  it  was  uttered. 

"Ah,  that  is  it  exactly,  there  is  a  battery  within.  I — ,  but  no, 
that  could  not  be,  for  it  has  been  three  years  since — "  The  rest  of 
his  sentence  was  lost  to  their  ears,  for  the  miniature  figures  began 
to  tremble  and  slowly  move  forward  while  the  most  peculiar  music 
ever  heard  flooded  their  ears.  It  was  low  and  impressive,  like  you 
will  hear  sometimes  at  the  opera  when  the  life  and  death  scene 
require  it.  This  was  joined  by  the  sweet  tones  of  the  bell  and 
chimes  at  short  intervals.  The  figures  now  moved  so  slowly  that  it 
required  the  use  of  the  glass  to  satisfy  the  eager  watchers  that 
they  were  really  moving  at  all.  There  was  something  in  all  this  so 
impressive  that.  Dorris  shuddered  and  that  feeling  of  dread  came 
back  to  her,  a  feeling  that  she  could  not  explain,  but  seemed  like  a 
presentiment  or  a  foreboding  of  evil. 

Mrs.  Waite  was  biting  her  lips  (a  habit  she  had  when  excited 
or  troubled)  while  she  suooorted  her  agitated  form  with  one  hand 
resting  on  the  polished  table.  The  experienced  eye  of  the  doctor 
convinced  him  that  her  nerves  were  on  tension.  A  longer  strain 
might  snap  the  thread  that  held  life,  like  a  too  tightly  tuned  up 
violin  string,  the  only  difference  being  that  one  could  be  restored, 
the  other  could  not.  He  was  concerned  and  glad  that  he  hap- 
pened to  drop  JIT  as  he  did,  for  his  services  would  certainly  be 
needed  if  this  scene  were  prolonged.  He  watched  her  closely,  won- 
dering why  she  was  so  much  more  agitated  than  the  others,  but 
could  not  fathom  it,  nor  could  the  rest  of  the  spectators.  She  was 
seen  to  press  her  hand  to  her  brow,  damp  from  a  cold  perspiration 
that  had  begun  to  gather,  as  the  figures  slowly  but  surely  drew 
nearer  and  nearer  to  the  spot  the  lawyer  had  designated  as  the  last 
halting  place  for  one  of  them.  They  were  slowly  nearing  the  cen- 
ter. She  seemed  oblivious  to  her  surroundings ;  for,  as  the  figures 
at  last  reached  a  spot  in  front  of  the  gold  dial  where  they  again 
halted,  she  pressed  both  hands  to  her  throbbing  head  and  sank  to 
her  knees,  crumpling  the  rich  robe  she  wore  for  this  wonderful 
occasion. 

"Oh,  merciful  Creator,  punish  not  the  children  for  their  par- 
ents' sin !" 

Gordon  thought  she  meant  his  father's  sin.  Some  of  the  oth- 
ers thought  the  cause  of  her  words  and  excitement  was  due  to  the 
unjust  will,  making  one  a  rich  man,  while  the  other  it  would  leave 
a  pauper.  Dorris,  kneeling  beside  her,  brushed  the  damp  from  her 


212  WICKED  CITY. 

brow  and  smoothed  her  hair  gently  while  she  tried  to  comfort  her, 
although  she  thought  her  agitation  was  from  a  mercenary  cause. 

"Watch  them,  daughter,  and  tell  me  which  one.  I  can  look  no 
longer." 

She  dropped  her  face  in  her  hands  while  Dorris  arose  and 
watched  with  the  others  who  were  cognizant  of  this  pathetic  scene 
without  fully  seeing  it,  for  their  eyes  were  still  glued  upon  the  two 
figures  outlined  against  the  gold  dial. 

Another  figure  in  real  life  had  joined  those  at  the  door.  It 
was  Jarl,  who  had  been  waiting  outside  for  his  master.  It  was  a 
striking  tableau  that  met  his  gaze.  Every  face  wore  an  expression 
of  awe  and  solemnity,  except  Robert's.  Who  could  read  that  won- 
derful face?  None  could  in  its  present  state.  But  if  one  had  noted 
him  closely  a  moment  later  as  he  watched  the  closing  of  this 
strange  tableau,  one  would  have  seen  the  demon  leap  into  it  and 
his  hands  clinch  around  the  twisted  napkin  he  unconsciously  held. 

The  chimes  and  bell  had  ceased,  the  slow  and  affecting  music 
alone  continuing.  The  hour  hand  now  suddenly  swung  around  in 
a  half  circle,  and  as  it  returned  into  position,  seemingly  with  greater 
force,  a  gong-like  sound  vibrated  upon  the  air.  As  if  this  were  a 
signal,  one  of  the  figures  disappeared  and  the  music  ceased.  Even 
the  tick-tock  of  the  clock  was  heard  no  more.  Mrs.  Waite  raised 
her  head  and  looked  at  the  others,  who  in  turn  were  still  staring 
at  the  clock.  Stillness  now  reigned.  Not  a  sound  broke  it  until 
Mrs.  Waite,  who  could  bear  the  suspense  no  longer,  in  an  agitated 
whisper  said: 

''Dorris,  child,  tell  me,  tell  your  mother,  is  it  over?  Did  I 
not  hear  something  drop  with  a  kind  of  dull  thud  like  hope  through 
space  to  doom?  Answer  me,  child,  is  it  over?  I  dare  not  look. 
Tell  your  mother  the  truth.  Is  it?  Ah,  it  is,  child.  I  read  it  in 
your  face.  Tell  me,  quick,  dear.  Which  one  is  the  heir?" 

Dorris,  thus  appealed  to.  first  glanced  at  the  two  brothers  with 
an  apologetic  look,  then  stooping,  the  sweet  lips  whispered  softly: 

"Yes,  mother,  it  is  over.  We  do  not  know  as  yet  which  one  it 
is,  but — "  (sinking  her  voice  still  lower,  so  that  her  mother  alone 
caught  the  words)  "I  think  it  is  Gordon." 

The  face  of  the  kneeling  figure  lighted. 

"Look,  look,  child  and  see!  No,  let  me  look.  I  am  stronger, 
now.  With  this  hope  in  my  heart  I  can  hear  it." 

She  arose  and  joined  the  others  who  had  recovered  from  the 
trance-like  state  they  had  fallen  into  watching  this  strange  phe- 
nomenon, and  had  crowded  still  closer.  Even  Jarl  and  the  servants 
had  taken  courage  and  advanced  into  the  room. 

THE  CLOCK  GIVES  UP  A  SECRET. 

The  lawyer,  with  a  large  legal  paper  in  one  hand  and  a  mag- 
nifying glass  in  the  other,  was  bending  forward  to  examine  the 
remaining  figure  at  the  bride's  side.  He  looked  through  the  glass 
at  the  name  he  could  see  there,  long  and  earnestly.  He  had  re- 


WICKED   CITY.  218 

gained  his  equanimity  and  could  not  help  but  make  the  most  of  the 
opportunity  this  gave  him  to  keep  their  nerves  strung  to  the  high- 
est tension  as  long  as  possible.  At  last  he  raised  his  head  and 
faced  the  now  quite  large  audience  present,  cleared  his  throat,  threw 
his  head  back  until  he  could  peer  out  from  under  the  glasses  he 
now  adjusted  for  the  first  time  and  began  to  speak. 

"The  mysterious  clock,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  that  required  two 
years  to  construct,  has  at  last  given  up  its  secret,  a  secret  it  has 
held  for  the  past  three  years,  and  held  it  well."  He  again  cleared 
his  throat,  then  peered  about  in  a  tantalizing  way,  as  if  to  say,  even 
if  he  did  trust  the  secret  to  a  clock  for  three  years,  he  would  at 
least  be  the  holder  of  it  after  the  clock  gave  it  up  for  as  many  min- 
utes more.  Dorris  had  encircled  her  mother's  shoulders  with  her 
snowy  white  arm,  and  was  whispering  comforting  and  hopeful 
words  in  her  ear. 

"I  am  sure  it  is  Gordon,  mother  dear,  unless  the  figures  were 
changed  around  since  we  looked  at  them  the  other  day,  and  that 
could  not  be.  See,  the  lawyer  is  about  to  speak !  He  is  going  to 
inform  us." 

The  "man  in  black"  again  continued : 

"The  will  I  have  here  in  my  hand  is,  I  confess,  a  very  unjust 
and — "  The  lawyer  was  slow  in  his  delivery,  and  Robert,  who 
up  to  this  time  had  stood  near  his  brother,  advanced  and  said: 

"I,  for  my  part,  do  not  wish  to  listen  to  a  long-winded  sermon, 
be  it  good  or  bad."  He  rudely  took  the  glass  from  the  astonished 
lawyer's  hand,  then  bending  forward  examined  the  name  on  the 
remaining  figure.  With  a  smothered  curse  he  shattered  the  glass 
on  the  guardian  angel  top-piece,  then  clenched  his  hands  as  though 
he  would  like  to  demolish  the  clock  itself,  but  changed  his  mind 
and  strode  from  the  room  without  a  word  aloud,  thinking  as  he 
cursed  bitterly  to  himself: 

"Oh,  why  did  .1  not  do  away  with  the  infernal  machine  as  I 
intended  to !  That  is  what  I  get  for  being  a  good  fellow.  That 
shall  be  my  last  weakness.  I  played  the  part  of  a  fool.  I  knew 
I  was  right  all  the  time.  Why  did  I  take  that  chance?  It  was 
like  switching  the  'copper'  off  a  good  bet  at  'faro.'  I  have  lost  all, 
when  I  could  have  kept  them  guessing  the  rest  of  their  lives.  Bah ! 
I  thought  I  was  a  gambler.  Here  I-  have  played  a  card  with  99  per 
cent,  against  me." 

His  footsteps  could  be  heard,  as  he  strode  up  and  down  the 
veranda,  by  those  within  who  had  stood  spell-bound  at  this  seeming 
rudeness.  But  they  all  forgave  him  in  their  hearts,  for  the  will 
appeared  to  be  a  very  cruel  and  unjust  one  and  the  question  that 
shone  in  their  eyes  and  trembled  on  their  lips  was  answered  by  this 
unexpected  action  of  Robert.  They  all  felt  a  great  pity  for  him  as 
the  lawyer  finished  his  remarks,  read  the  will  and  said : 

"I  can,  for  my  part,  freely  excuse  Robert,  for  he  has  been  done 
a  great  injustice;  but  'it  is  an  ill  wind  that  blows  nobody  good' — 
loss  to  one  is  generally  gain  to  another.  Mr.  Gordon  Long,  allow 
me  to  congratulate  you,  for  you  are  the  heir," 


314  WICKED  CITY. 

Dorris  seemed  little  elated  at  the  announcement.  It  would 
have  suited  her  as  well  if  Robert  had  been  the  heir.  But  still  she 
was  pleased  for  her  mother's  sake  who  seemed  over-joyed.  They 
all  crowded  forward  to  congratulate  Gordon.  As  soon  as  Mrs. 
Waite  could  manage  it,  she  carried  him  off  to  her  daughter  who 
had  taken  her  pet  "Toots,"  and  was  bending  over  him  in  a  thought- 
ful attitude. 

"Dorris,  you  have  not  congratulated  Gordon,  are  you  not 
pleased,  dear?" 

Dorris  arose  and  faced  them  with  an  unfathomable  expression 
in  her  eyes  and  said : 

"Yes,  dear  mother,  for  your  sake  I  am  pleased.  Anything  that 
gives  my  mother  pleasure  can  not  help  but  please  me." 

She  extended  to  Gordon  her  little  hand.  He  seized  it  and  held 
it  while  he  turned  to  her  mother,  saying : 

"My  dear  madam,  will  you  now  give  me  the  right  to  soon  call 
you  'mother  ?' " 

"Yes,  my  dear  children.  God  bless  you  both.  It  has  lifted 
a  great  load  from  my  heart,  and  I  am  happy,  happier  than  I  have 
any  right  to  be.  God  is  good.  He  is  more  lenient  with  me  than  I 
could  expect.  I  am  satisfied  that  you  love  one  another  with  a  love 
that  will  never  die,  and  such  love  must  bring  happiness.  So  take 
her,  Gordon,  and  may  she  bring  you  as  much  happiness  as  she 
has  me." 

"Thank  you,  madam,  but  rest  assured,  you  will  not  lose  a 
daughter.  Instead,  you  shall  gain  a  son,  a  son  who  will  always 
love  and  respect  you.  Now  may  I  not  announce  our  engagement 
to  these  good  people,  dear  Dorris?" 

She  nodded  her  consent,  and  the  light  of  love  and  happiness 
shone  in  her  eyes  as  they  rejoined  the  group  and  announced  the 
engagement.  Then  there  were  more  congratulations,  and  the  face- 
tious lawyer  tried  to  make  her  believe  that  it  was  the  custom  in 
England  to  kiss  the  intended  bride  when  the  engagement  was 
announced.  But  he  failed  for  she  was  too  well  informed  as  to 
English  customs.  Being  balked  here,  he  asked  if  there  was  not 
some  American  custom  that  allowed  it,  claiming  in  the  same  breath 
that  he  would  renounce  old  England  for  the  privilege  such  a  cus- 
tom would  give  him.  This  caused  a  laugh,  which  reached  the  ears 
of  Robert,  who  was  still  promenading  up  and  down  with  a  gloomy 
brow  and  darker  thoughts.  He  paused  at  the  window  and  peered 
in  at  the  happy  group,  the  trailing  vines  hiding_his  own  form  from 
their  view.  Then,  with  still  darker  thoughts  in  his  heart,  he  fin- 
gered the  weapon  in  his  pocket. 

"There  is  no  justice!  Here  is  a  good  illustration  of  it.  Gor- 
don now  has  everything,  I  nothing.  He  has  gained  wealth,  friends, 
a  mother,  a  wife.  But  no,  shall  he  have  her  too?  We  shall  see. 
Look  at  them  gather  around  him  as  if  he  were  a  prince,  while  I 
suppose  they  have  forgotten  that  I  ever  existed." 

He  turned  away  and  resumed  his  pacing  to  and  fro,  peering  in 
at  the  window,  as  he  passed  and  re-passed,  with  eyes  of  hate,  pas- 


WICKED   CITY.  215 

sion  and  revenge.  The  little  good  that  remained  in  him  had  dis- 
appeared with  the  puppet  that  bore  his  name  "as  the  chimes  told 
the  hour." 


HAPPINESS  WITHIN,  MISERY  WITHOUT— 
A  LAST  APPEAL. 

Meantime,  the  happy  ones  on  the  inside  were  again  gathered 
around  the  clock.  The  lawyer  had  produced  a  small  key,  fashioned 
from  gold,  which  he  inserted  in  a  key  hole  he  had  exposed  by  slid- 
ing to  one  side  a  figure  2.  He  was  some  minutes  winding  it.  Then 
he  reversed  the  figure  and  two  more  key  holes  were  discovered. 
He  treated  these  likewise.  Then  setting  it  with  his  own  timepiece, 
an  old-fashioned  lever  which  had  belonged  to  his  forefathers  and 
had  been  handed  down  from  generation  to  generation,  it  was  soon 
once  more  ticking  off  the  minutes  as  busily 'as  ever.  They  could 
hear  Robert's  footsteps,  and  a  great  pity  sprang  up  in  their  breasts, 
for  he  had  seemed  to  take  it  so  much  to  heart,  in  spite  of  his  seem- 
ing indifference. 

Mrs.  Waite  called  Dorris  to  her  side  and  asked  her  if  she  would 
not  let  Gordon  go  to  his  brother  to  try  and  comfort  him. 

"He  has  been  wanting  to  go,  dear  mother,  but  don't  you  think 
someone  else  had  better  go  and  ask  him  to  rejoin  us  here?" 

They  asked  the  lawyer  what  he  thought  about  it.  He  advised 
it  by  all  means. 

"'But,  Mrs.  Waite,  I  think  your  daughter  had  better  go.  He 
certainly  is  not  in  a  very  pleasant  frame  of  mind,  and  I  know  ha 
will  listen  to  her  when  he  would  not  to  us."  So  Dorris  started  on 
her  errand.  The  others  again  gathered  around  the  clock  while 
they  explained  to  the  doctor  many  things  of  interest  connected  with 
"It.  It  was  certainly  the  wonder  of  the  century  and  one  of  the  finest 
pieces  of  mechanical  art  ever  constructed. 

Dorris  opened  the  door  and  peered  out.  The  first  thing  she 
heard  was  a  low  curse  which  caused  her  to  draw  back  as  if  unde- 
cided, but  the  good  in  her  heart  conquered.  She  advanced  to  meet 
him  as  he  swung  around  and  started  back  on  his  ceaseless  march, 
a  march  he  had  become  familiar  with  in  the  London  prison,  and  lit- 
tle did  this  pure  girl  dream  that  while  she  was  talking  to  this  well- 
bred,  fine-looking  man  she  was,  at  the  same  time,  holding  con- 
verse with  an  escaped  convict,  and  now  one  of  the  most  desperate 
men  ever  turned  loose  upon  the  American  continent !  But  such 
was  the  case. 

"You,  Dorris,  and  did  you  think  of  me  and  come  to  me  in 
my  misery?" 

"Robert,  they  all  insisted  that  I  come  and  ask  you  to  join  us 
in  the  parlor.  We  will  soon  have  tea — " 

"Never  mind  the  tea.  The  taffy  you  are  all  willing  to  feed  me 
on  is  sufficient," 


216  WICKED  CITY. 

"Oh,  Robert,  why  will  you  talk  so  bitterly?  I  am  sure  there 
is  a  place  in  our  hearts  for  you." 

"Are  you  sure?" 

"Yes,  Robert,  certainly  there  is." 

As  he  replied  he  brought  the  full  force  of  his  mesmeric  eyes 
upon  her.  She  shivered  under  the  gaze  and  grew  uneasy. 

"Is  there  a  place  in  your  heart  for  me?" 

"Ye-es.  You  must  be  my  dearest  of  brothers.  I  never  had  a 
brother.  Won't  vou  be  a  good  brother  to  me?" 

Robert  replied  bitterly :  "Or  as  a  brother-in-law,  since  you 
know  which  one  is  rich  enough  to  be  the  husband.  Am  I  not 
right?" 

This  unjust  speech  distressed  her  greatly. 

"No,  indeed,  Robert!  Gordon  and  I  both  would  rather  you 
inherit  the  estates,  for  with  our  love  for  one  another  alone,  we 
could  be  supremely  happy." 

"You  dp  not  know  of  what  you  speak.  Do  you  think  he  would 
marry  you  if  he  had  not  been  a  rich  man?  No,  he  has  too  many 
fine  notions.  And  as  to  the  estates,  I  do  not  care  for  the  loss  of 
them.  It  is  for  the  loss  of  you  that  I  care.  If  I  had  been  the  heir 
in  place  of  him  you  would  never  marry  him." 

"Yes,  Robert,  I  should,  for  I  love  him  and  would  marry  him, 
rich  or  poor." 

"You  deceive  yourself  and — " 

Dorris  interrupted  him  and  said,  "Won't  you  come  in?  They 
are  all  anxiously  waiting  for  you." 

He  dragged  her  to  the  window.  "Look  in  there !  Look !  Do 
they  look  as  if  they  were  all  anxiously  waiting  for  me?  No!  They 
think  more  of  that  infernal  clock  than  they  do  of  me." 

She  could  say  nothing  in  reply.  Indeed  it  appeared  so.  Still 
she  knew  better,  for  those  were  all  true  hearts  assembled  there; 
but  she  knew  it  would  be  useless  to  try  to  convince  him  of  that 
fact.  She  walked  along  at  his  side  until  they  had  reached  the 
extreme  end  of  the  long  veranda.  Her  eyes  were  raised  to  his  and 
she  was  pleading  for  him  to  come  and  join  the  family  circle.  He 
stopped  and  leaned  against  the  trellis-work.  He  was  now  facing 
her  again  and  was  marshalling  his  forces. 

"Dorris,  I  would  do  a  great  deal  to  please  you,  but  what  in 
return  would  you  do  to  please  me?  Nothing." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  would,"  she  replied.  "I  would  do  a  great  deal  for 
anyone.  But  now,  Robert,  won't  you  please  come  in?" 

She  took  hold  of  his  hand  and  attempted  to  urge  him  along. 
She  could  not  bear  to  see  him  out  here  all  alone  and  miserable 
while  there  was  life  and  happiness  within. 

"On  one  condition,  my  sweet  Dorris,"  and  he  drew  her  nearer. 

"It  is  getting  chilly  for  me,  and  if  you  will  not  come  I  must 
go  in,"  she  evaded. 

He  now  pulled  her  nearer  still.  She  felt  his  breath  scorch  her 
cheek  as  he  bent  over  her  and  in  a  low  voice  said :  "I  will  go  with 
you,  but  before  I  go,  let  me  kiss  that  sweet  mouth." 


WICKED    CITY.  217 

"No,  no,  Robert!  Let  me  go !  I  did  not  think  this  of  you, 
you  knowing  that  I  have  promised  my  hand  to  your  own  brother." 

"My  'own'  brother  ?  Oh,  that  is  rich  !  He  has  robbed  me  of 
everything.  He  is  ungenerous.  Why  should  you  be  ungenerous 
also?" 

"I  am  not  ungenerous,  neither  is  he.  You  mistake —  Ah, 
Robert,  allow  me  to  go,  won't  you  please?" 

But  she  appealed  in  vain.  He  had  thrown  his  strong  arm 
around  her  slender  waist  and,  pressing  her  to  him,  tried  to  kiss 
her  on  the  lips,  but  she  held  her  beautiful  sacred  face  in  such  a 
position  that  this  was  impossible. 

"Robert,  please  let  me  go !    This  is  wrong,  I  know  it  is." 

"No,  my  sweet  Dorris,  if  my  brother  is  so  generous  as  you 
claim,  he  will  certainly  not  begrudge  me  a  caress  from  you,  only  a 
caress." 

"Robert,  I  protest.  If  you  do  not  release  me,  I  shall  be  forced 
to  scream  for  assistance." 

"Oh,  no,  you  would  not  do  that,"  he  replied. 

"I  certainly  would  not  like  to  do  it,  but  I  will  unless  you 
desist."  But  he  paid  no  heed  and  made  one  last  appeal. 

"Dorris,  can't  you  love  me?  You  will  never  be  loved  as  I  love 
you.  Say  the  word  and  we  will  fly  to  some  little  nest  of  our  own. 
If  I  do  not  prove  my  words,  you  can  come  back  and  none  will  be 
the  wiser." 

"Robert,  you  insult  me.  Now  pray  let  me  go,  for  I  dislike  to 
cry  for  help  and  still  further  humiliate  you  to-night." 

"Will  you  meet  me  at  the  summer  house  at  this  time  tomorrow 
evening?" 

"No!     Impossible!" 

"Well,  in  the  afternoon,  say  at  2  o'clock?" 

She  hesitated.  She  did  not  like  to  prevaricate,'  still  this  fur- 
nished her  a  good  -opportunity  to  escape  from  him  now,  so  she 
replied, 

"I  shall  see." 

"Will  you?"  he  insisted. 

"I  will  try  to,"  she  replied.     "Now  let  me  go." 

He  pressed  her  once  more  to  his  heart  and  said,  "Just  one  kiss 
before  you  go.  It  is  all  I  ask.  It  is  little." 

Her  voice  was  firm  and  convincing  as  she  replied,  "No,  Robert, 
no !  I  could  never  respect  myself  if  I  willingly  submitted  to  a 
caress  from  one  who  has  no  right  to  give  it." 

He  released  her  and  she  quickly  disappeared  into  the  house 
and  sought  her  chamber  to  re-arrange  her  hair  before  she  returned 
to  the  parlor  to  inform  them  of  her  failure.  She  found  them  still 
gathered  about  the  clock,  for  the  bell  was  tolling  in  the  steeple  of 
the  miniature  cathedral,  and  the  little  puppets  had  continued  their 
journey,  minus  one  of  their  number.  As  the  company  later  drop- 
ped into  the  chairs  around  the  tea-table,  there  was  one  still  vacant 
and  many  a  sorrowful  glance  was  cast  toward  it. 


218  WICKED  CITY. 

AS  THE  CHIMES  TOLD  THE  HOUR. 

Another  day  dawned  clear  and  bright.  The  lawyer  made  prep- 
arations for  his  return  to  smoky  London  and  business,  with  a  better 
opinion  of  America  than  he  had  ever  entertained  before. 

Gordon  and  Dorris,  relieved  from  the  awful  strain,  were  en- 
joying the  balmy  air  along  the  wooded  pathway  and  were  making 
all  kinds  of  plans  for  the  future.  Gordon  assured  her  she  had  done 
right,  and  that  it  was  not  necessary  to  meet  Robert  if  she  did  not 
wish  to  do  so.  So  at  2  o'clock  when  the  stillness  that  reigned  in 
the  cottage  was  broken  by  the  chimes  as  they  told  the  hour  and 
started  the  little  folk  on  their  hourly  promenade,  Robert  emerged 
from  the  summer  house  with  passion-distorted  features.  Entering 
a  skiff,  he  rapidly  pulled  away,  meantime  keeping  his  eyes  on  the 
receding  bluff,  but  that  which  would  have  quickly  reversed  his 
course  failed  to  appear. 

END    OF    PART   I. 

(Continued  in  Part  II.) 


WICKED   CITY. 


219 


GORDON   WAS  DECOYED   BY  HIS  FALSE   FRIEND   UP  A  DARK   STREET  INTO 
THE  SHADOWS  OF   AN  OLD   CHURCH. 


"WICKED  CITY 

PART  II. 


CLATTERING  HOOFS  ON  THE  HIGHWAY. 

MERCHANTS'  SIEGE  WITH  BANDITS. 

THE  "LONG  AND  SHORT"  OF  IT* 


CHAPTER  L 

A  WEST  SIDE  GAMBLING  HOUSE.     PENNILESS  AND 
DESPERATE. 

We  next  find  Robert  Long,  formerly  number  "49,"  at  the  sport- 
ing headquarters  of  the  levee.  Luck  proved  against  him  here.  After 
a  small  losing,  he  savagely  tore  up  the  cards  and  next  visited  a 
well-known  west  side  gambling  house,  presided  over  by  the  notori- 
ous "One-armed  Shimmel."  The  room  was  ablaze  with  lights  and 
sparkling  shirt-fronts.  He  had  gained  admission  by  mentioning 
the  name  of  McGinns,  a  southside  sport,  and  was  soon  making 
his  way  down  a  long  room  lined  on  either  side  with  games  of  every 
description.  The  droning  voices  of  the  dealers  seemed  to  repeat 
again  and  again  the  name  "Dorris"  in  his  ear.  It  rang  in  them 
as  he  dropped  into  a  seat  at  a  "faro  bank"  table.  He  could  hear 
her  voice  in  the  rattle  of  the  checks  and  see  her  face  in  the  silver 
deal  box  which  was  fast  winning  from  him  the  last  thing  he  had 
of  value.  He  played  out  deal  after  deal,  but  luck  was  against  him 
still.  He  watched  his  money  _fast  fade  away  and  disappear  in  the 
little  drawer  and  the  checks  in  the  rack  as  the  dealer  won  them. 
Buying  checks  became  monotonous,  besides  he  imagined  he  could 
see  her  face  looking  at  him  from  the  circle  they  formed,  with  sor- 
rowful eyes  as  though  beseeching  him  to  turn  away  from  this  life 
and  follow  another  and  better.  So  he  began  to  change  money,  a 

(220) 


WICKED   CITY.  221 

hundred  on  a  card,  playing  "cases"  only.  Still,  this  did  not  change 
his  streak  of  bad  luck.  He  at  last  became  reckless,  and  addressing 
the  dealer  said, 

"Say,  pal,  'blow'  out  of  that  for  a  while  and  let  someone  else 
take  your  place.  It's  a  cinch  I  can't  beat  you.  You  are  dealing 
too  luckily  for  the  house." 

"There  is  no  one  to  take  my  place,"  the  dealer  replied;  "just 
at  present,  anyway." 

Glancing  around,  Robert  retorted,  "What's  the  matter  with 
that  one-armed  'guy'  strutting  around  there?  Can't  he  deal  with 
one  mitt?" 

"That's  the  boss." 

"Well,  suppose  he  is  the  boss.  Can't  he  'push  the  paste- 
boards' ?" 

"Well,  I  should  say  he  can." 

"Well,  call  him  over  here.  I'm  just  going  one  more  bet  with 
a  limit,  and  I  want  a  new  deal  and  a  new  shuffle  of  the  cards." 

The  dealer  made  a  motion  of  his  head  and  the  one-armed 
gambler  approached.  "This  gentleman  here  is  off  loser  and  wants 
to  'press  the  limit'." 

Without  another  word  they  exchanged  seats  and  the  one-armed 
individual  extracted  the  cards  from  the  box,  then  shuffled  them 
with  one  hand  as  handily  as  most  gamblers  shuffle  with  two. 

"What  limit  do  you  want?"  he  tersely  inquired. 

"Well,  I  just  want  to  make  one  bet  on  the  first  'case'  that 
appears." 

"How  much?"  the  one-armed  man  returned. 

"I  will  see." 

He  searched  his  pockets  and  piled  up  in  front  of  him  all  the 
money  he  had  left,  $1,250.50.  The  hangers-on  and  gamblers,  both 
"live  and  dead"  ones,  as  they  were  termed,  began  to  crowd  around 
expecting  to  see  some  high  and  long-winded  plunging,  but  they 
were  doomed  to  disappointment  on  the  length  of  the  game,  for  as 
the  first  "case,"  the  ace  of  diamonds,  appeared,  he  placed  it  all  and 
"coppered"  it.  A  dozen  cards  or  more  were  slipped  from  the  deal 
box  by  the  deft  fingers  of  the  gambler,  and  still  the  ace  did  not 
appear.  So  taking  a  "wrong  hunch,"  he  changed  the  nature  of  the 
bet  by  flipping  the  "copper"  off  with  his  finger  .and  played  it  open. 
A  few  more  turns — breathless  silence  by  those  around.  Then  he 
arouse,  broke.  The  dealer  offered  him  a  cigar.  Like  a  man  in  a 
dream,  he  mechanically  accepted  and  lit  it,  then  started  away  but, 
as  if  on  a  second  thought,  turned  and  said: 

"Ah,  excuse  me,  my  mittless  friend,  I  almost  forgot  to  thank 
you  for  this  most  exellent  weed." 

"Don't  mention  it.  You  will  find  that  it  has  a  real  west-side 
flavor.  Don't  forget  the  number.  You  will  find  the  boys  of  the 
West  Side  'hot  taters'.  Give  you  any  limit  at  any  game  you  play." 

Robert's  blood  boiled  as  he  retorted,  "Thank  you,  I  may  drop 
over  once  in  a  while  and  make  it  more  interesting.  I  only  had  a 
little  shaving  money  with  me  to-day." 


WICKED   CITY. 


WTCKED  CITY.  223 

With  this  parting -bluff,  in  response  to  the  one-armed  gambler's 
sally,  he  passed  out  and  down  the  wire  interwoven  steps.  He  did 
not  let  a  vestige  of  the  rage  within  him  appear  on  the  surface 
while  there  was  a  gambler  to  watch  him,  but  as  he  found  himself 
in  the  street  wandering  about  (he  did  not  know  or  care  where),  a 
close  observer  might  have  seen  something  in  that  face  which  would 
cause  a  creepy  feeling  to  chase  along  his  spinal  column.  His 
mouth  was  so  firmly  set  that  the  corners  of  it  twitched  and  his 
teeth  grated  as  he  walked  on  and  on  without  looking  to  the  right 
or  left,  sometimes  mechanically  and  unconsciously  turning  a  corner 
just  as  the  press  of  pedestrians  would  guide  him.  A  little  dog  that 
was  following  a  "drug  store  blonde"  happened  to  dart  in  his  way. 
He  gave  it  a  savage  kick  which  tangled  it  up  in  the  spokes  of  a 
passing  hansom.  The  blonde  screamed,  the  dog  howled  as  it  spun 
around  in  the  air,  and  the  cabman  swore.  But  he  hardly  heard 
them  as  he  proceeded  on  his  way.  He  was  too  busy  with  his  own 
thoughts  which  shaped  themselves  to  believe  he  had  a  grievance 
against  the  whole  world.  There  was  only  one  hope  left  him,  that 
was  when  he  thought  of  Dorris,  when  her  face  came  before  him, 
as  it  did  constantly,  always  with  those  tender,  beseeching  and  re- 
proachful eyes  as  he  had  last  seen  them  upon  the  vine-clad  ver- 
anda. Desperate  resolves  formed  themselves  one  after  another — 
resolves  to  possess  her  by  fair  means  or  foul — and  at  the  same 
time  eke  out  his  revenge  on  Gordon.  But  he  could  carry  out  no 
plan  successfully,  so  he  thought  to  himself,  without  money.  Money 
he  must  have,  and  get  it  he  would,  no  matter  how. 

"Well,  that  one-armed  sport  has  got  what  the  shoemaker  threw 
at  his  wife — the  last— and  he  is  welcome  to  it,  but  I  don't  like  his 
way.  He  kind  of  tried  to  throw  a  hot  shot  into  me,  but  I  guess  he 
got  as  good  as  he  gave.  So  they  are  'hot  taters'  over  here,  are 
they?  Well,  I  may  make  it  hotter  for  them  sometime.  I  will  show 
them  what  a  real  dead  game  sport  is.  I  will  not  quit  loser  on  the 
West  Side.  I  will  play  even — but  how?  Curse  the  luck,  why 
djdn't  I  keep  that  last  thousand  for  a  bank  roll.  Ah,  Dorris,  ^ou 
little  know  how  much  I  love  you.  I  would  sacrifice  a  dozen  lives, 
the  same  as  I  did  the  one  in  London,  for  your  sake.  Bah !  Why 
can't  I  get  her  out  of  my  mind  for  a  moment?  I  wonder  where 
I  am,  anyway.  Curse  it,  I  can't  see  the  names  on  the  street  lamps 
for  I  see  her  face  there  instead.  I  am  crazy,  yes,  quite  crazy.  I 
am  tough,  but  I  can  become  worse.  Where  in  the  h — — "  He 
had  at  last  halted  on  a  busy  corner.  Cars  were  passing  and 
repassing.  On  one  of  them  he  saw  figures  which  danced  before 
his  eyes.  It  was  some  time  before  he  could  determine  the  fact  of 
its  being  a  12th  street  car. 

"Guess  I  might  as  well  'cop'  that  'rattler;'  it  will  take  me  over 
the  bridge  as  far  as  Wabash." 

He  ran  and  caught  it  just  in  time.  The  car  was  filled  mostly 
with  ladies.  He  fell  into  a  vacant  seat  in  such  deep  meditation  that 
it  was  some  time  before  he  was  aware  the  conductor  was  standing 
before  him  waiting  patiently  for  his  fare  with  outstretched  hand. 


224  WICKED  CITY. 

He  dove  into  his  pocket,  and  then  it  dawned  upon  him  that  he  did 
not  have  even  carfare.  The  ladies  were  all  looking  at  him  with 
interest,  and  a  couple  of  girlish  gum-chewers  giggled  as  he  with- 
drew his  hand  empty.  He  looked  at  the  conductor  blankly,  arose 
and  dropped  off  into  the  street.  So  it  happened  that  the  want  of 
five  cents,  which  would  have  allowed  him  to  continue  his  ride 
across  the  long  12th  street  bridge,  was  the  indirect  cause  of 
launching  upon  the  "wicked  city"  what  is  known  as  the  "long  and 
short  bandits,"  who  became  feared  and  famous  throughout  the 
length  and  breadth  of  the  land  on  account  of  their  many  'daring 
deeds,  deeds  unequaled  in  modern  or  ancient  times.  They  have 
figured  as  real  characters  in  fiction  as  well  as  in  modern  history. 

For  the  benefit  of  the  readers,  who  are  not  familiar  with  this 
great  city,  we  will  mention  the  fact  of  a  deep  river  which  cuts 
through  the  business  center,  dividing  it  into  three  sections.  That 
part  north  of  the  lower  terminus  is  called  the  "North  Side ;"  while 
that  section  south  and  east  of  it  (bordered  on  one  side  by  the  great 
lake)  is  known  as  the  "South  Side"  and  all  that  portion  west  of 
it  is  termed  the  "West  Side,"  where  we  will  now  follow  the  move- 
ments of  Robert  Long,  the  escaped  convict  known  as  number  "49," 
who  is,  without  premeditation,  about  to  take  the  first  step  that 
eventually  wins  for  him  the  feared  and  widely  known  name  of  the 
"long  man,"  a  name  that  to-day  strikes  terror  to  the  citizen  or 
stranger  who  hears  it  spoken  of  in  connection  with  another,  the 
"short  man,"  who  so  prominently  figured  in  Chicago's  carnival  of 
crime  horrors  which  will  live  clearly  in  the  minds  of  the  merchants, 
the  main  sufferers,  forever. 

ON  THE  BRIDGE. 

Robert,  with  quick,  energetic  strides,  had  covered  about  half 
the  distance  to  the  12th  street  bridge  when  he  began  to  feel  the 
pangs  of  hunger.  His  mind  was  so  taken  up  again  with  other 
matters  that  he  once  more  forgot  for  a  moment  his  financial  condi- 
tion. In  an  absentminded  and  preoccupied  way  he  turned  into  a 
cafe,  dropped  into  a  seat  and  began  to  look  over  the  sporting 
column  of  the  evening  paper,  while  he  waited  for  someone  to  take 
his  order.  His  eyes  traveled  over  the  head-lines,  reading  them, 
but  hardly  comprehending  their  meaning,  until  at  last,  just  as  the 
waiter  appeared  at  his  elbow,  he  noted  the  heading  in  large  letters, 
"Broke  the  Record."  "Broke,"  and  then  it  flashed  across  his  mind 
that  he  was  broke.  The  suggestive  head-lines  had  put  him  forcibly 
in  mind  to  the  fact  again.  He  almost  knocked  the  astonished 
waiter  from  his  feet  as  he  swung  around  and  hurriedly  made  his 
way  into  the  street.  It  was  still  a  mile  to  the  bridge.  The  shades 
of  night  were  drawing  around  as  his  foot  struck  the  first  plank  of 
that  long  structure.  As  he  swung  along,  he  could  look  down  upon 
many  streets  and  even  the  roofs  of  buildings,  in  many  places  lay 
beneath  him,  while  others  shot  up  and  cut  the  sky  with  their 
sentinel-like  chimneys.  He  stopped,  and  leaning  on  the  rail  looked 


WICKED   CITY.  226 

off  to  the  north  where  the  great  Masonic  Temple  loomed  up  many 
feet  above  the  other  sky-scrapers  clustered  around  it.  On  top  of 
this  was  a  large  roof  garden,  or  what  is  known  as  an  open  air 
theater,  patronized  mostly  by  the  elite  of  Chicago.  It  was  well  he 
could  not  distinguish  those  who  were  entering  below.  For  there, 
mingling  with  the  great  throng  of  playgoers,  were  the  two  people 
who  were  uppermost  in  his  bitter  thoughts — Dorris  and  Gordon. 
They,  like  Robert,  had  stopped  in  their  walk  on  the  promenade  and 
were  now  leaning  on  the  rail  looking  off  and  down — as  happy  as 
happy  could  be,  while  the  silent  figure  alone  on  the  bridge,  miserable 
and  alone  looked  off  and  up  with  a  cold,  glittering  eye  that  failed 
to  see  aught  to  please  or  of  hope.  No,  his  was  a  wasted  life.  He 
felt  it,  in  fact  his  natural  cleverness  set  this  before  him  too  vividly. 

He  was  standing  now  on  a  section  of  the  bridge  directly  over 
the  Chicago  _  river.  He  looked  down  at  it  and  wondered  if  he 
should  drop  in,  what  he  would  look  like  after  being  churned  around 
and  ground  into  the  mud  and  filth  by  the  lake  craft  that  ply  up  and 
down. 

"I  would  be  full  of  filth,  bloated,  bruised  and  probably  dis- 
figured beyond  recognition.  In  a  week  or  so  some  vessel  would 
stir  me  up  to  the  surface.  Then  I  would  have  a  ride  in  the  dead 
wagon,  then  I  would  be  laid  on  a  slab  at  the  morgue,  then  an- 
other long  ride — my  last.  And  my  handsome  brother  would  be 
enjoying  the  happy  hours,  days  and  years,  with  the  only  thing  on 
earth  I  love,  the  only  thing  that  holds  life  dear  to  me,  Dorris,  the 
sweetest,  the  purest  of  all  mortals.  Oh,  why  was  I  so  hasty,  so 
rash?  Why  did  she  resist  me?  But  on  a  second  thought  I  loved 
her  more  for  it.  and  she  won  my  respect  for  it.  Oh,  what  a  life 
it  would  be  with  her  always  at  my  side!  As  long  as  there  is  life, 
they  say,  there  is  hope.  I  have  a  chance  while  I  live,  but  a  dead 
lover  is  beaten  to  start  with.  Well,  I  will  finish  out  this  'sprint' 
that  west-side  sport  has  started  me  on,  and  at  the  end  of  it, 
what  then?" 


A  KNIGHT  OF  THE  ROAD— HOLD  UP  YOUR  HANDS. 

Glancing  in  both  directions  and  seeing  no  one,  he  turned  to 
resume  his  journey,  bitter  and  sullen.  He  struck  his  foot  on  a 
projecting  plank.  The  strain  snapped  a  shoe-string. 

"Curse  the  luck!  What  next?"  he  growled.  "I  will,  have  a 
good  appetite  I  guess  when  I  do  get  there." 

Resting  his  foot  on  a  timber,  he  stooped  over  and  commenced 
to  repRir  the  damage,  when  he  heard  a  harsh  voice  say: 

"Hold  up  yer  mitts  and  give  us  yer  coin." 

Robert  was  in  a  mood  that  caused  him  to  care  little  what  be- 
fell him,  so  without  even  changing  his  position,  he  turned  his 
head.  As  he  did  so  his  nose  struck  something  cold  and  hard,  and 
his  eye  looked  down  the  muzzle  of  a  forty-four  blue  magazine  re- 
volver. 


226  WICKED  CITY. 

"Can't  you  see  that  my  mitts,  as  you  called  them,  are  busy,  you 
duffer?"  he  replied  and  coolly  turned  his  attention  to  his  shoe. 
The  burly  footpad  was  so  taken  back  at  this  cool  refusal  to  comply 
with  his  command  that  for  a  moment  he  was  dazed.  Then  he  broke 
out  with  his  fiercest  oaths  which  sounded  somewhat  familiar  to 
Robert,  and  would  in  themselves  intimidate  a  more  timid  man. 

"Up  wid  dem  mitts,  I  say,  or  I'll  mix  dat  putty  hair  up  wid 
yer  brains." 

But  this  new  command  only  brought  a  cold  smile  to  the  lips 
of  the  other  who  replied,  as  he  finished  tying  an  artistic  bowknot 
at  his  shoe-top, 

"You  seem  inclined  to  be  somewhat  witty.  You  have  missed 
your  calling.  You  ought  to  4iave  been  a  reporter  on  the  Daily 
Yell." 

The  footpad  gasped. 

"Well,  yuse  be  a  cool  un,  but  dat's  wat  I  gits  fur  holdin  ye 
up  like  a  gentleman.  I  could'r  hit  ye  a  crack  over  de  head  and 
pttt  yer  to  sleep,  an  I  will  too  if  yer  don't  pay  a  little  'tendon  t' 
me.  "See?" 

Robert  smiled. 

"If  you  do,  I  surely  will  pay  a  little  attention  to  you.  I  will 
just  take  that  cannon  away  and  dump  you  into  the  river." 

"I  wouldn't  if  I  wus  you.     I  might  pispn  de  fish." 

"Well,  you  are  making  quite  a  reputation  with  me  as  a  wit." 

The  thug  grew  furious  and  growled  out:  "Well,  by  h  —  ,  if 
yer  don't  shell  out  pretty  quick,  I'll  fix  yuse  up  so  yer  own  brother 
wouldn't  recognize  ye." 

"He  don't  recognize  me  as  it  is,  so  that  don't  bother  me." 

Hie  had  finished  the  bow  to  his  satisfaction  and  straightening 
up,  leaned  against  the  rail  with  his  hands  thrust  deep  into  his 
pockets.  Assuming  a  kind  of  easy  attitude,  he  lazily  continued, 

t"Say,  my  friend,  tell  me  what  you  want.  I  am  ready  to  do 
business  now." 

"Ye  know  wat  I  want,"  the  footpad  roared,  "I  wants  yer  coin, 
and  I  wants  it  d  —  quick,  too." 

"Will  you  have  it  now  or  will  you  wait  till  you  get  it?"  was 
the  tantalizing  and  cool  reply  which  still  more  exasperated  the 
thug  who  stuttered  a  moment,  but  the  only  thing  he  could  say  was, 


"My  friend,  why  do  you  speak  of  your  home  at  such  a  mo- 
ment as  this?" 

"Home?  Home?  I'll  make  h  -  yer  home,  and  send  ye  dare 
wid  yer  boots  on  if  yer  don't  stow  yer  gab  and  cough  up  wat  coin 
yer  got  in  yer  clos." 

Robert  was  in  a  kind  of  reckless,  don't-care  spirit,  which 
caused  him  to  care  little  if  -the  footpad  did  carry  out  his  threat. 
In  fact,  he  would  welcome  a  "scrimmage,"  even  though  it  would 
result  disasterously  for  him.  There  is  a  time  in  most  every  per- 
son's life  when,  through  circumstances  over  which  he  has  no  con- 
trol, he  finds  himself  in  a  frame  of  mind  akin  to  this  reckless  feel- 


WICKED  CITY.  22: 

ing  in  Robert.  He  had  made  up  his  mind  to  parley  as  long  as 
he  could  and  meanwhile  watch  his  opportunity  to  best  the  thug  or 
be  bested  in  turn.  There  was  something  about  this  fellow  that 
seemed  familiar,  but  he  failed  to  place  him. 

"What  do  you  want  with  money?"  asked  Robert.  (ilt  would 
melt  where  you  are  going." 

"Me?" 

"Yes,  you." 

"Well,  I'll  jes  send  ye  on  ahead,"  and  his  finger  twitched  on 
the  trigger  as  he  spoke. 

"If  you  do,"  Robert  coolly  replied,  "I  will  take  you  along  with 
me  and  give  you  a  'knock-down'  to  the  devil." 

"De  devil  ye  will !" 

"Well,  that  is  what  I  said,  and  I  was  standing  right  here 
when  I  said  it,  too." 

"Well,  yer'll  be  layin  down  somewhere  if  yer  don't  quit  yer 
kiddin  and  ante  up." 

"Well  that's  good !  What  will  I  be  doing  while  you  are  doing 
all  that?" 

"Wat  will  ye  be  dpin?  Wy,  yer'll  be  shakin  hands  wid  de 
devil  I'm  tinkin,  fer  I  tink  yer  a  bad  un  wid  all  yer  fine  clos  and 
genteel  front." 

A  grim  smile  overspread  Robert's  face. 

"Well,  I  guess  you  will  find  me  a  bad  one  if  you  get  mixed 
up  with  me." 

"Wat  would  yuse  do?"  The  footpad  asked  this  in  a  kind  of 
sneering  tone  as  his  eye  traveled  from  the  others  refined  features 
down  to  his  slender,  neatly  clad  foot. 

"What  would  I  do,  you  ask?" 

"Yes,  wat  would  ye  do  ef  I  turned  meself  loose  at  ye  wonst?" 

"Well,  I  will  tell  you  what  I  would  do.  I  would  just  jerk  one 
of  your  arms  out  and  beat  you  to  death  with  the  bloody  end  of  it." 

The  would-be  robber  laughed  in  a  scornful  kind  of  way,  and 
replied, 

"Well,  ynse  be  de  best  I  ever  run  up  against,  de  best  I  ever 
tried  to  trow  in  de  air.  Wat  wud  I  be  a  doin  wid  dis  gun,  dough  ?" 
'  Now  it  was  the  others  turn  to  laugh  in  a  tantalizing  kind  of 
way  and  reply, 

"Why,  you  haven't  got  nerve  enough  to  use  that  'barker.'  You 
are  only  putting  up  a  great  big  bluff." 

The  footpad  caught  his  breath  and  blurted  out,  "Well,  if  dat 
wudn't  freeze  a  pump!  I'm  only  Muffin,  am  I?  I'll  show  yer 
if  I'm  bluffin  er  not." 

Crowding  still  closer  with  a  wicked,  determined  look  on  his 
ugly  features,  he  shoved  the  weapon  against  Robert's  breast,  directly 
over  the  heart,  but  that  organ  did  not  beat  a  fraction  faster  and 
a  quiet  smile  of  contempt  was  on  his  face  as  the  other  accompanied 
his  actions  and  words  with  curses  and  threatening  looks. 

"I  am  tru  monkeyin  wid  yuse;  now  yuse  jes  trow  dem  deli- 


228  WICKED   CITY. 

cate  little  glove-stretchers  in  de  air  wile  I  go  tru  yer  pockets,  or  by 
h ,  I'll  make  an  air  hole  in  yer  heart." 

But  to  this  order,  as  well  as  the  others,  he  paid  no  heed. 
Settling  himself  in  a  more  comfortable  position,  he  brought  the 
full  force  of  that  magnetic  power  in  his  eyes  to  bear  on  the 
"Knight  of  the  Road"  and  held  him  spellbound  till  he  finished  the 
following,  delivered  in  a  peculiar,  dreamy,  indifferent  tone  of  voice : 
"Say,  my  good  fellow,  let  me  tell  you  a  few  things  you  ought  to 
know.  You  think  for  one  thing  that  you  are  the  whole  cigarette, 
but  you're  only  the  butt." 

At  this  remark  the  thug  nearly  exploded  with  wrath. 

"There,  there,  now,  don't  allow  your  angry  passions  to  rise, 
for  it  is  bad  form  to  swear  like  that.  What  would  your  poor 
mother  say  if  she  heard  you  using  such  language?"  There  was  a 
sound  of  irony  in  his  voice  as  he  spoke.  "Besides  you  are  working 
yourself  into  a  passion  and  wasting  the  time  you  should  be  out 
looking  up  a  'live  one'  for  you  are  on  a  'dead  one'  this  trip.  A 
mouse  could  dance  a  jig  in  my  pockets  and  never  break  his  neck 
over  a  nickle.  So,  if  you  want  to  do  any  killing  without  anything 
in  it,  go  ahead  with  the  funeral.  It  will  save  me  the  trouble  of 
walking  over  to  the  lake.  I  was  going  to  try  the  river,  but  I  hap- 
pened to  think  of  a  piece  I  saw  in  a  paper  once  about  a  tramp, 
one  of  those  oyster-can  Willies,  who  was  filthy  and  dirty  and  tired. 
He  was  so  tired  of  the  wicked  city  that  he  became  tired  of  life; 
besides  he  had  been  disgraced  in  the  eyes  of  the  great  army  he 
belonged  to.  He  had  been  caught  'red-handed'  pushing  a  buck- 
saw through  some  poles  in  a  back  yard,  for  a  hand-out.  He  could 
not  stand  up  under  the  awful  disgrace,  so  he  came  to  the  12th 
street  bridge  to  die.  Writing  his  will  on  the  rail,  he  set  the  can 
near  it,  then  with  a  last  farewell  look  around,  cast  himself  in. 
There,  now,  don't  interrupt,  let  me  finish.  Mind  you,  as  dirty  as 
lie  was,  he  could  not  stand  this  river  that  flows  beneath  us,  he 
choked  and  gagged  and  cried  lustily  for  help,  A  passing  tug 
threw  him  a  rope  and  he  was  soon  on  terra  firma,  but  he  went 
on  a  dog  trot  to  the  lake.  Arriving  there,  he  threw  himself 
into  the  clear  sparkling  water  and  ended  his  disgraced  existence 
Now  then,  my  case  is  like  his  in  one  way,  for  I  was  standing  here, 
looking  down  in  it,  having  just  filled  out  my  string  of  hard  luck, 
which  is  longer  than  a  preacher's  sermon,  but  like,  the  hero  of  the 
oyster  can,  I  had  just  made  up  my  mind  to  die  when  you " 

Robert  was  holding  the  others  eyes  and  attention  in  spite 
of  him.  It  was  one  man's  will  power  exercised  over  anothers. 
Consequently  the  thug  had  failed  to  notice  the  gun  as  its  weight 
gradually  dragged  the  hand  that  held  it  down  to  a  less  dangerous 
position.  With  a  quick  motion,  Robert  knocked  it  from  his  hand 
and  sprang  at  his  throat. 


WICKED    CITY.  229 

THE  UNDERGROUND  DEN. 

"The  river,  my  friend,  is  not  good  enough  for  me  to  'croak' 
in,  but  it  is  good  enough  for  you,  and  there  is  just  where  I  am 
going  to  put  you." 

The  thug  fought  desperate^.  They  swayed  backward  and  for- 
ward and  Robert  soon  had  his  man  half  over  the  rail.  The  moon 
was  now  shining  down  in  their  upturned  faces,  for  in  the  struggle 
they  had  worked  out  of  the  shadow  cast  by  the  great  bridge  sup- 
ports. He  was  about  to  take  advantage  of  the  jiu  jitsu  "twist"  he 
had  on  the  footpad  and  spin  him  over  the  rail  to  the  awful  death 
awaiting  him  below,  when  he  made  a  startling  discovery.  Jerking 
him  to  his  feet,  he  scanned  his  face  more  closely,  while  he  listened 
to  the  "Knight  of  the  Road"  curse  and  growl.  Then  he  cried, 
"The  bulldog  of  the  lake  front,  by  all  that  is  eternal!" 

The  other  stopped  his  cursing  long  enough  to  take  a  better  look 
at  his  antagonist  and  ejaculated,  "An  yer  de  guy  wat  lent  me  de 
wipe." 

With  one  accord  they  broke  away  and  ended  all  differences 
by  warmly  shaking  hands.  They  both  looked  at  each  other  with 
interest,  each  one  in  his  way  admiring  the  other.  There,  was  a 
great  difference  in  these  two  men,  but  a  kindred  feeling  sprang 
up  between  them.  The  "Knight  of  the  Road"  eyed  his  late  antag- 
onist from  head  to  foot  again  as  if  trying  to  locate  the  source  of 
that  wonderful  strength  he  evidently  possessed.  Then  he  spoke. 

"Well,  I'll  be  blowed!" 

"I  should  say  you  were  pretty  nearly  'blowed'  as  it  is," 
replied  his  companion. 

"Yep,  an  I'll  give  ye  credit  fer  it,  top,  an  ye  came  near  blowing 
me  over  de  rail,  an  I'd  sooner  a  hull  train  o'  cars  ud  run  over  me." 

"How  did  you  come  out  of  that  job  on  the  lake  front?" 

"It  was  a  fizzle,  and  I  quit  wid  only  a  bloody  book_  stuck  in 
me  shoe.  Somebody  had  swiped  the  coin  out  ob  it  wile  I  was 
mixed  up  wid  de  grass.  But  say,  pal,  I  aint  a  goin  ter  sling  any 
more  gab  till  I  knows  who  I'm  a  spielin  ter.  See?  Wat's  yer  lay 
and  wat  do  dey  call  yuse  wen  yuse  are  et  home?" 

"Well,  as  to  home,  I  plead  not  guilty.  Did  have  an  interest 
in  one  till  yesterday,  but  tonight  I  have  no  more  home  than  a 
rabbit  and  I  haven't  even  got  the  price  of  a  canary  bird's  breakfast. 
With  the  home  I  lost  everything,  even  the  love  of  one  of  the  pret- 
tiest girls  in  America.  As  to  'lay,'  I  have  none,  and  my  name  T 
lost  with  the  rest,  so  call  me  what  you  like,  just  so  you  don't  call 
me  too  late  to  join  in  anything  you  have  on  hand.  If  you  ask  no 
question,  you  will  always  find  me  'Johriny-at-the-wheel.' " 

"I  believe  you,  pal.  Yuse  are  one  ob  de  right^  sort  and  dat's 
no  midnight  dream  eder.  But,  say,  takin  yer  all  in  all,  yer  flyin 
lighter  dan  a  chip  hat  in  a  cyclone,  aint  ye,  and  ye  only  tie  me  fer 
I  aint  seed  enuf  coin  since  I  mixed  up  wid  yer  on  de  lake  front 
ter  buy  a  piece  of  shin  plaster  as  big  as  a  minute,  but  I  got  a  plac? 


230  WICKED  CITY. 

wat  I  calls  'home'  and  yuse  be  welcome  ter  it  an  wat's  in  it  ef  ye 
aint  too  hardened  to  go  tru  a  church  ter  get  dere." 

"Go  through  a  church,  did  you  say?" 

"Dat's  wat  I  sed,  an  I'll  tip  somethin  off  ter  ye  dat'll  s'prise  ye." 

"Well,  you  can  keep  your  surprises  for  someone  else.  I'm 
not  looking  for  any  home  in  a  church  among  rats,  but  I  will  go 
with  you  and  get  you  located,  so  if  I  need  you  I  will  know  where 
to  find  you.  If  I  had  known  where  to  find  you  a  short  time  ago,  I 
might  have  saved  a  few  thousand  and  put  you  on  Easy  Street  too." 

"How's  dat?" 

"There  you  go  now.     I  told  you  to  ask  no  questions." 

"Questions  and  answers  is  bad  tings.  Dat  is  right  pal,  but 
ye  axed  me  a  question  a  while  ago  about  de  lake  front  job." 

"Yes,  but  that  is  a  matter  we  were  both  mixed  up  in,  and  I 
would  advise  you,  if  you  are  going  to  continue  in  your  present 
calling  as  a  'Knight  of  the  Road'  never  to  get  confidential  with 
women  that  live  on  the  shady  side  of  the  street  or  ask  or  answer 
any  more  questions  than  you  can  help." 

"Tanks,  pal,  yuse  have  put  me  on  de  right  car,  an  I  aint  a 
goin  to  git  off  eder.  What  do  yer  say  t'  goin  over  an  take  a 
rubber  at  me  joint?  It's  a  swell  place  ter  plant  yerself  in  ef  ye  are 
under  cover  fer  anything." 

Robert  had  been  thinking  rapidly  during  this  strange  dialogue 
and  replied :  "Well,  I'm  not  under  cover  for  anything,  but  I've  got 
a  pal  that  is,  so  I  will  go  with  you  and — here  comes  somebody 
along  the  footway.  Put  your  coat  down  behind.  It  is  caught  in 
the  handle  of  your  gun,"  cautioned  Robert. 

"Yer  lamps  don't  miss  much,  and  dat's  no — " 

"Hist!     Here  they  come." 

They  pressed  back  into  the  shadows.  Two  well-built,  deter- 
mined looking  men  passed.  The  footpad  pressed  Robert's  arm. 

"Do  ye  twig  dem  gazabos?" 

"They   are   'fly  cops,'   I    should   judge." 

"Well,  ye  be  a  shrewd  un,  sure.  Dere  is  not  one  guy  in  ten 
thousand  wat  could  pick  em  out  as  elbows,  but  dat's  wat  dey  are — 
de  slickest  in  de  business — an  dey  pop  up  most  everywhere.  I 
don't  believe  dey  ever  hit  de  bunk  for  a  round  o'  sleep." 

"What  are  their  names?" 

"De  feller  wid  de  black  wings  under  his  nose  dey  calls 
'Rometto.'  De  oder  wid  de  scramble  egg  complexion  and  carroty 
colored  hair,  dey  calls  'Arlex'  or  someting  like  dat.  Dey  are  de 
ones  dat  gave  us  a  pretty  good  chase  down  in  Hammond  and 
pniched  me  pal,  and  I  haint  been  able  to  spring  him  yet." 

^"Well,  come  on,  let's  blow  this  bridge.  They  may  take  a, 
notion  to  come  back  this  way  on  a  rubber." 

"Will  ye  come  down  to  me  den?" 

"Yes,  but  lead  the  way  by  just  one-half  of  a  block  ahead  of 
me,  no  more  or  no  less." 

"All  right,  captain.  Don't  give  me  de  shake,  cuz  I  tink  mighty 
well  o'  de  game  yc  put  up.  See?" 


WICKED    CITY.  281 

Robert  made  no  answer  to  thij?,  but  asked,  "Have  you  got 
anything  to  eat  over  there?" 

"Well  guess  we  can  scare  up  someting  dat'll  pass." 

"All  right.  Get  your  legs  to  moving.  I  will  be  a  stone's  throw 
behind  you  with  a  belly  as  empty  as  a  military  dude's  head." 

The  bulldog  started  off  and  walked  along  tvith  an  innocent 
air,  but  as  he  passed  a  pedestrian  a  short  distance  away  he  turned 
with  his  hand  on  his  weapon  and  looked  at  Robert  as  if  to  say, 
"Shall  I  hold  him  up?"  But  Robert  shook  his  head  so  the  merchant 
passed  on  unmolested  and  unconscious  of  how  a  slight  shake  of  a 
head  had  saved  him  from  being  held  up  and  robbed.  He  went 
whistling  on  his  way,  probably  to  loving  arms  and  a  happy  home 
full  of  cheer  and  welcome  after  an  honest  day's  business,  while 
Robert  started  out  to  follow  and  join  his  fortune  to  that  of  the  foot- 
pad he  had  saved  from  the  happy  whistler's  wealth. 

The  wittily  inclined  footpad  led  him  a  short  distance  along 
the  bridge  and  then  turning  off  into  Clark  street,  they  passed 
through  a  district  infested  with  almost  every  class  of  human  beings 
known  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  of  which  Italians,  Negroes,  Chinese 
and  the  lower  class  of  Polish  and  Russian  Jews  predominated. 
Many  of  the  women  and  barkers  tried  to  intercept  him,  but  their 
cunning  eyes  saw  something  in  his  manner  which  readily  convinced 
them  he  was  not  a  greenhorn  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  looked 
like  "ready  money"  as  a  barker  was  heard  to  say  to  a  Chinaman 
steerer  for  a  fan-tan  game.  A  man  of  his  fine  appearance  was 
seldom  seen  in  that  locality  unless  in  a  carriage  or  accompanied 
by  an  officer  to  protect  his  person  and  wealth.  He  had  not  fol- 
lowed this  street  far  when  he  _  saw  his  man  glance  behind  and 
turn  into  Polk  street.  Following  a  short  distance,  he  saw  him 
again  turn  and  glance  behind,  then  turn  to  the  north.  He 
found  this  street  comparatively  free  of  pedestrians,  but  infested 
with  low  resorts  fn  which  all  classes  of  frail  women  held  out.  Many 
of  the  inmates  were  sitting  on  the  low  steps,  chewing  snuff  and 
smoking  cigarettes,  while  they  at  the  same  time  plied  their  wicked 
trade.  Many  glaring  eyes  sought  his  face  to  read  it  and  decide 
whether  or  not  it  would  be  good  policy  to  try  to  work  their  wiles 
on  him.  Some  of  the  less  experienced  ones  accosted  him  with, 
"Come  here  Tall-and-Kandsome,"  but  he  paid  no  heed;  while 
there  were  others  who  mistook  him  for  a  detective  and  scampered 
into  their  filthy  dens,  only  to  poke  their  dissipated  faces  out  from 
a  half-drawn  curtain.  It  made  him  think  of  a  lot  of  prairie 
dogs.  At  last  he  saw  his  man  ahead  of  him  stop  in  front  of  an 
old  church  and  carelessly  look  up  at  a  city  clock  off  to  the  west, 
and  up  and  down  the  dark  street,  then  back  out  of  sight  into  the 
archway  of  the  building.  As  he  stopped  in  the  shadow  of  the  build- 
ing and  looked  around,  he  saw  that  it  was  a  lonesome  spot 
and  no  one  was  in  sight,  except  the  footpad,  who  called 
him  in  a  low  tone.  _  Together  they  entered,  his  con- 
ductor using  a  key.  If  it  was  dark  and  gloomy  on  the  outside, 
it  was  still  worse  inside.  He  could  see  nothing  but  the  white  cuffs 


232  WICKED   CITY. 

of  his  companion  as  they  cut  the  darkness.  Keeping  his  eyes  on 
them  as  they  swung  back  and  forth,  he  followed  until  they  came 
to  a  stop,  and  he  watched  them  with  interest  as  they  descended  to 
a  level  with  the  owner's  boots,  then  ascended  while  a  rush  of  air 
struck  him  in  the  face.  His  conductor  lifted  a  slab  and  spoke 
quickly. 

"Now  den,  pal,  it's  yer  turn  to  go  first,  I'll  follow  and  close 
me  door.  Look  out  fer  yerself.  Jes  feel  around  till  ye  gets  yer 
mitts  on  de  ladder,  den  follow  dem  patent  ledders  of  ytise  down 
backwards.  Quit  when  ye  gets  t'  de  bottom  and  wait  fer  yer  uncle, 
dat's  me."  ; 

Robert  followed  these  instructions,  and  groping  around  with 
his  gloved  hands_he  discovered  a  ladder.  Feeling  his  way  down  this, 
he  waited  for  his  companion  in  whom  he  began  to  take  quite  an 
interest.  The  footpad  quickly  joined  Robert,  closing  the  opening 
after  him,  then  again  led  the  way.  <  As  he  followed,  the  cuffs  still 
answered  as  a  guide  until  they  again  descended  and  seemed  to  be 
reaching  for  something.  At  last  they  ascended.  A  click  was  heard 
and  a  ray  of  light  shot  from  a  dark  lantern  which  struck  him 
square  in  the  eyes,  almost  blinding  them  for  a  moment. 

"Excuse  me,  captin,  didn't  mean  ter." 

"All  right,  but  get  a  move  on  you.    I  could  eat  a  bear." 

Before  them  there  was  a  stone  wall,  seemingly  the  founda- 
tion of  the  old  church.  Inserting  his  fingers  in  a  crevice,  he  swung 
back  a  portion  of  the  wall  just  large  enough  for  them  to  pass 
through  comfortably,  which  they  did,  closing  it  carefully.  Robert 
again  followed  his  guide  for  some  distance.  Soon  he  could  hear 
the  muffled  clang  of  the  street  car  bells  and  the  rumble  of  wagons 
for  a  short  time,  and  then  they  could  hear  them  no  more.  He 
imagined  they  had  passed  under  Clark  street,  still  he  asked  no 
questions,  but  wondered  why  and  when  this  _  subterranean _  passage 
was  built  under  this  city  of  wicked  reputation.  His  guide  now 
stopped  in  front  of  a  heavy  door  of  wood.  Upon  pushing  this  open, 
Robert  followed  and  found  himself  in  a  well-furnished  room  about 
12  by  16  feet  in  dimensions.  The  air  here  seemed  to  be  better 
than  that  of  the  passage.  He  noticed  that  there  were  three  doors 
besides  the  one  they  had  entered,  also  that  there  were  many  chairs 
which  seemed  to  have  been  lately  in  use,  for  scattered  among  them 
on  the  floor,  which  was  covered  with  rugs,  were  a  number  of  cus- 
pidors and  around  these  the  butts  of  cigarettes  and  cigars.  _The 
walls  were  covered  with  pictures  of  all  kinds,  the  nude  predominat- 
ing, mostlv  clippings  from  such  papers  as  Standard  and  Police 
Gazette.  Then  there  were  rows  upon  rows  of  sporting  men  and 
noted  criminals.  It  in  one  way  put  him  in  mind  of  Steve  Brody's 
place  on  the  "Bowery"  in  New  York,  for  there  was  not  a  patch  of 
the  wall  or  ceiling  as  large  as  his  hand  that  was  not  covered  with 
a  pictured  face^  or  form.  He  stepped  close  to  the  wall  and  ex- 
amined  the  pictures  of  the  criminals,  for  he  had  noticed 
writing  of  some  sort  on  or  below  each.  It  proved  to  be 
their  names  and  aliases,  and  to  this  in  most  every  case  was  a 


WICKED   CITY.  283 

penciled  remark,  something  like  this :  "Railroaded  by — "  and  there 
followed  the  name  of  some  detective  such  as  Rometto,  Arlex,  Mil- 
raly,  Shubert,  Kaply,  etc.  Under  others  were  inscribed:  "He  is  a 
dead  one ;"  "He  is  all  O.  K. :"  "Ha  is  a  'stool ;"  "He  died  with  his 
boots  on;"  "He  was  croaked  by  the  cops — ;"  "He  is  game;"  "Sleepy 
Burke's  pipe  went  out  and  he  woke  up."  Another  said :  "He  told  his 
troubles  to  a  cop  and  got  copped,"  etc.,  etc.  It  would  take  fully 
a  day  to  read  them  all.  He  turned  to  find  the  footpad  with  a 
grin  on  his  face  that  chased  away  the  fierce  look  which  he  generally 
assumed  during  business  hours, 

"Wat  do  ye  think  o'  rne  gallery?"  he  asked. 

"Well,  I'll  have  to  look  it  over  later.  Where  are  those  bottles 
of  wine  and  cold  lobster  you  were  cackling  about?" 

"I've  got  em  all  right." 

"Well,  ycu  won't  have  them  long  if  you  will  just  let  me  get 
my  lamps  on  them." 

"Take  a  seat,  captin,  and  I'll  fix  ye  out  in  two  twists  o'  a  lamb's 
tail." 

He  hurried  about,  jerking  chains  here  and  there  and  whirled 
a  round  table  into  the  center  of  the  den.  Robert  noticed  that  it 
looked  as  if  it  had  been  used  for  a  card  table.  Then  the  host 
disappeared  through  one  of  the  doors,  only  to  quickly  appear  again 
with  lobster  and  wine.  Setting  this  on  the  table,  he  secured  some 
glasses  and  a  loaf  of  bread.  Then  these  two  men,  so  alike  and  yet 
so  unlike,,  broke  bread  together  and  discussed  many  things,  many 
people,  and  many  plans  in  this  strange  underground  chamber. 

A  BOLD  PROPOSITION. 

As  they  finished,  his  host  brought  out  a  box  of  cigars  and  they 
settled  themselves  for  a  smoke  and  further  talk.  Robert  noticed 
that  the  weed  he  had  placed  beween  his  firm,  white  teeth  was  of  a 
fine  flavor  and  of  the  best  make,  and  he  remarked  to  his  host: 

"They  must  be  coming  kind  of  easy  for  you  to  be  able  to 
smoke  this  kind." 

"Well,  dey  aint  comin  easy,  even  if  dem  are  fifty  cents  a  trow. 
Dey  didn't  cost  me  anything,  only  de  trouble  o'  reaching  fer  dem 
wile  me  pal  was  stallin  fer  me ;  and  dat  wine  is  off  o'  de  same 
shelf.  But  say,  wat  do  ye  tink  o'  me  den?  Aint  it  de  proper 
ting?" 

"Yes,  it  couldn't  be  better  providing  you  have  another  exit." 

"Dat's  jes  wat  I  got,  me  boy,  an  it's  a  bute  too!  Want  to  take 
a  rubber  at  it  now?" 

"No,  wait  till  I  am  ready  to  blow.  You  may  show  me  out  that 
way  if  you  wish." 

"All  right,  pal,  but  yer'll  find  yerself  in  a  pretty  tough  part 
o'  dis  wicked  village.  It's  wat  dey  call  de  'cesspool  o'  crime.'  Dat's 
wat  de  'civic  fed'  calls  it.  Dis  'ere  city  used  t'  be  de  best  in  de 
vvorl;^  till  dem  fellers  wid  white  chokers,  wat  dey  call  preachers 
began  t'  show  derc  hands.  Dey  aint  satisfied  dat  a  sport  an  gambler 


234  WICKED  CITY. 

should  earn  his  ^own  living  like  a  gentleman  slinging  de  paste- 
boards upon  de  inside,  but  dey  got  to  rubber  around  an  raid  de 
gambling  houses  and  drive  de  sport  out  on  to  de  street  t'  hold 
some  bloke  up  fer  de  price  o'  a  meal,  if  he  gits  one." 

Robert  listened  to  his  talkative  host,  but  smoked  on  in  silence. 
Sometimes  a  thoughtful  expression  would  come  over  his  face,  as 
though  thinking  deeply  of  some  plans  he  had  in  mind. 

"Fer  nobody  aint  a-goin  ter  han  ye  anything  after  ye're 
knocked  out  o'  a  job,  like  me,"  the  thug  continued.  "I've  worked 
in  almost  every  gamblin  house  in  de  city  and  made  me  little  $8 
and  $10  a  night.  O'  course  I  was  a  good  feller  wid  me  coin,  and 
let  loose  o'  it  again  and  wen  de  joint  was  sloughed,  I  didn't 
have  enuff  t'  pay  em  fer  de  ride  in  de  wagon  to  de  station.  But 
de  others  were  in  de  same  boat,  an  de  boss  who  is  a  pretty  good 
feller,  dat's  Wagner  wat  runs  de  town,  settled  fer  us.  Dere  ye  are 
without  a  cent  and  nobody  t'  han  ye  anything  unless  ye  stick  a 
gun  under  der  nose  and  beller  at  em  t'  cough  up,  and  dat's  jes 
wat  I've  been  a-doin  ever  since.  Dey  may  tie  me,  but  dey  can't 
beat  me.  De  city  owes  me  a  good  livin  an  I'm  goin  t'  have  it. 
Why,  my  dad  used  t'  pay  taxes  fer  two  or  tree  houses  in  dis 
ere  part  o'  de  town,  while  dere  is  one  o'  me  pals  wat  had  a  dad 
as  owned  a  whole  row  of  buildins'  but  me  pal  don't  own  even  a 
spot  t'  be  buried  in,  an  ef  a  cop  or  mark  should  snuff  his  candle, 
wy,  he  wud  have  t'  go  to  pauper's  field  and  rot  wid  de  oder  poor 
stiffs  out  dere  who  didn't  have  de  price  when  dey  croaked." 

"You  have  more  than  one  pal,  then  I  take  it." 

"Yes,  dere's  five  o'  us  wen  we  are  all  t'  home,  but  some  are 
away  on  a  visit.  Two  'flys'  wat  dey  calls  Shubert  and  Woolriedge 
got  em  a  pass  so  dey  could  go  out  an  see  a  old  friend  o'  deres,  at 
Joliet.  But  dey'll  be  back  soon  wid  de  top  button  off  o'  dere 
britches  from  livin  t'  high." 

"Are  they  all  right,"  Robert  asked. 

"Are  dey  all  right?  Wai  ye  kin  bet  all  yer  loose  change  on 
dat,  pard.  Dey  are  like  clams,  hard  t'  open  and  game  t'  de  back 
bone.  All  dis  push  needs  is  a  good  head  t'  plan  and  manage  fer 
em,  some  one^  wat  kin  handle  em.  Dey  are  like  a  lot  o'  young 
colts,  full  o'  vinegar,  an  dey  worry  de  life  out  o'  me,  an  are  pretty 
near  as  bad  as  'Pop  Anson's*  colts,  an  dey  calls  me  'Anson'  wen 
dey  run  out  o'  gab  and  can't  tink  o'  any  oder  hard  names  to  trow 
at  me." 

"Have  you  or  they  any  ladies  on  the  string?" 

"Well,  I  know  wat  ye'd  say.  Dere  is  one  girl  in  de  push,  but 
she  is  dead  wise  and  kin  be  trusted,  an  she  is  useful,  too.  It's  all 
rot  about  dem  sayin  as  wat  dey  can't  trust  a  woman.  Dere  is  a 
good  many  as  ye  can't  trust  as  far  as  ye  kin  trow  a  red  hot  stove; 
but  again,  dere  is  women  as  ye  kin  trust." 

"Has  she  ever  been  in  the  sweat  box?" 

"Has  she?  Well  I  should  say  she  had,  an  she  never  has 
squealed  an  never  will  fer  Detectives  Rometto  and  Arlex  had  'er 
in  der  sweat  box  fer  a  whole  day  et  a  time  without  anything  t' 


WICKED  CITY.  235 

chew,  and  dey  couldn't  pump  nothin  out  o'  her,  an  I  guess  dey 
puts  up  about  de  best  game  at  dat  kind  o'  work  of  er.y  of  de  elbows. 
An  wat's  more,  she  is  a  dead  ringer  for  de  fine  ladies  wat  ye  see 
on  de  boulevards,  an  as  purty  as  a  peach,  an  she  aint  got  no  man 
an  she  don't  run  wid  de  oder  girls  an  de  bulls  here  never  forced 
enyting  agin  her.  Oh,  she's  a  smooth  un  an  she  makes  de  colts 
treat  er  like  a  lady.  How  she  ever  does  it,  I  don't  know,  fer  dey 
don't  care  fer  de  devil  himself.  Yuse  see,  dem  guys  '11  git  together 
here  an  smoke  my  cigars  and  cigarettes  while  dey  tells  me  dere 
troubles  an  finish  up  wid  a  lot  o'  pipe  stories  dat  ud  freeze  yer 
blood,  an  I  believe  ef  de  devil  himself  ud  appear  true  de  wall  dey 
ud  commence _  kiddin  'im  an  spit  tobacco  juice  in  his  eyes  ef  he 
kicked  about  it.  Oh,  dey  be  terrors  an  dat's  no  evenin  dream,  but 
an  early  mornin  fact.  But  dey  are  'Johnny-on-de-spot'  wen  dere's 
enything  on  de  taps,  an  ef  dey  gets  de  hooks  trowed  into  dem,  dey 
takes  der  'med'  like  de  dead  game  guys  dey  are,  an  go  tru  de  sweat 
box  wid  a  grin  on  dere  mugs  an  never  squeal  or  give  up  a  ting. 
All  dey  ever  got  out  o'  dem  boys  dey  could  put  in  der  eye  an  it 
wudn't  hurt  em  a  bit." 

"And  how  is  it  with  you  when  they  get  you  in  the  sweat  box 
as  you  call  it?" 

"How  is  it  wid  me?  Well,  dey  never  got  me  dere  yet,  but  ef 
dey  did,  you'd  be  safe  in  bettin  all  yer  loose  change  that  I'll  stand 
pat  an  ef  it's  a  game  o'  gab  slingin'  I'll  put  em  asleep  de  first 
round.  I'll  out  talk  em  an  still  say  nothin.  Dey'd  find  dat  Red  is 
t'  foxy  fer  em  an  wont  stand  der  work  even  ef  it  is  fine,  fer 
wen  dey  begin  t'  shoot  de  short  con  into  me  I'll  begin  t'  trow  de 
long  con  into  em.' 

"Your  speaking  about  change  puts  me  in  mind  of  something. 
How  much  change  have  you?" 

"Aint  got  a  red." 

"Well,  let's  go  out  and  get  some." 

"Shall  we  try  de  bridge?" 

"No,  that's  too  slow  for  me.  Are  the  big  mercantile  stores 
closed  yet?" 

"Dey  are  on  dis  side,  but  dey  aint  on  de  oder  side." 

"Well,  let's  go  over  there.  I  have  a  grudge  against  that  side 
anyway." 

"Wat  ye  a-goin  t'  do?" 

"Why  go  over  and  save  some  of  the  merchants  the  trouble  of 
counting  up  their  day's  receipts." 

His  companion  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  in  a  puzzled  and 
incredulous  way. 

"Ye  mean  t'  go  in  an  hold  de  whole  store  up?" 

"That's  what  I  mean." 

"Oh,  ye  ^got  yer  kiddin  clos  on.  We  could  never  do  it  and 
make  our  'git  away.' "  With  an  incredulous  grin  on  his  wicked 
face  he  arose  and  began  to  remove  the  bottles  and  glasses  as  if  the 
question  was  settled.  "No,  I'll  pass  dat  kind  of  a  lay-up." 

Robert  selected  another  cigar,  bit  the  end  off  with  a  snap  of 


236  WICKED   CITY. 

his  firm  teeth  and  said :  "Well,  I  will  have  to  pass  you  up,  then, 
for  I  want  a  pal  that  has  nerve  and — "  He  did  not  finish.  The 
other  had  turned  with  the  bottles  and  glasses  still  in  his  hands. 

"Nerve?  Say,  captin,  ye  don't  mean  t'  say  ye  are  in  earnest 
about  holdin  up  a  whole  store  full  o'  people?" 

Robert  was  lighting  his  cigar  and  did  not  answer  until  he  had 
finished,  then  flipping  the  burned  match  across  the  table,  he  assured 
him  that  he  was.  The  footpad's  eyes  searched  his  companion's  face 
for  a  moment,  but  being  convinced  that  he  was  in  earnest,  threw 
the  bottles  and  ware  in  a  heap,  and  a  curse  mingled  with  the  sound 
of  breaking  glasses  as  he  snatched  up  his  hat  saying, 

"Come  on,  I'll  show  ye  ef  I  have  got  nerve    enough  or  not." 

STORE  HOLD-UP  NUMBER  ONE— THE  SPOOK  AND  RED. 

He  started  towards  the  door  opposite  that  by  which  they 
entered,  but  Robert  laid  his  hand  on  his  shoulder  and  stayed  him. 

"Not  so  fast.  Wait  till  I  give  you  a  few  instructions  and  ask 
you  a  question  or  two." 

"Fire  away,  but  you'll  have  t'  be  in  a  hurry  or  de  big  places 
'11  be  sloughed." 

"Have  you  got  confidence  enough  in  me  to  do  just  as  I  tell 
you  without  asking  questions?" 

"Yep." 

"Very  well  then,  see  that  your  shooting  irons  are  in  working 
order.  Lead  the  way  out,  then 'follow  me  till  you  see  me  step  into 
an  alley.  As  I  do,  you  must  stop  near  by  and  wait  till  I  send  my 
pal  out  to  you  and  he  will  enter  the  store  with  you.  Do  you  under- 
stand the  crook's  deaf  and  dumb  finger  motion?" 

"Yep." 

"Well,  keep  an  eye  on  him  and  do  just  as  he  tells  you.  Hold 
up  the  cashier,  then  lam,  but  split  away  from  each  other  after  you 
get  out  of  danger,  you  cop  the  swag  and  blow  back  here  and  stay 
under  cover  till  I  come." 

"How'll  I  know  yer  pal?" 

"What  is  the  password  ^with  your  gang?" 

"  'Eitak*  is  de  pass  dat  gits  ye  anything  we  got." 

"Yep,  it  is  de  name  of  our  gal  spelt  backwards." 

"Katie?"  he  asked. 

"Yep,  dat's  de  handle  she  goes  by." 

"All  right,  that  is  very  good.  Now  how  am  I  to  get  in  on  my 
return  ?" 

"Here's  a  key  t'  de  ole  church.  Come  in  de  same  way  ye  did 
to-night,  an  I'll  give  ye  a  duck  t'  Kit  an  she'll  let  ye  in  de  oder 
way." 

"No,  we  haven't  time  for  the  red-tape  of  ?.n  introduction  to  so 
fair  a  lady.  I  will  come  the  other  way.  H-tve  you  two  keys?" 

"Got  a  dozen  planted  'round  'ere  somewhere." 

"Now  there's  one  thing  more  and  then  we  will  blow.  Stick 
your  chin  up  here," 


WICKED   CITY.  287 

.  The  footpad  did  so,  wonderingly.  It  seemed  as  though  he 
must  obey  for  there  was  something  about  the  dark-faced  man  that 
he  could  not  resist  if  he  wished.  His  words  were  short,  command- 
ing and  to  the  point.  If  he  had  ordered  him  to  dig  a  hole  in  the 
Chicago  river,  he  would  have  attempted  it  without  a  remonstrance 
of  any  kind.  Robert  dragged  him  near  the  light.  Taking  a  needle 
from  his  vest,  he  stuck  the  head  in  a  small  cork,  then  dipping  the 
point  in  the  fluid  contained  in  the  bottle  he  tilted  the  others  chin 
with  one  hand  while  with  the  other  he  picked  the  skin  in  a  half 
'  dozen  places.  As  fast  as  the  needle  point  was  withdrawn,  a  red 
blotch  would  form  as  large  as  a  dime,  until  his  face  looked  like 
a  mass  of  pimple  blotches. 

''Now  come  on,  lead  the  way  out  of  here,  and  don't  forget  what 
I  have  told  you." 

The  astonished  and  much  puzzled  robber  quickly  led  the  way 
through  the  door  and  along  a  short  passageway  much  the  same  as 
the  other  only  dry  and  more  wholesome  smelling.  Another  door  in 
a  stone  foundation  was  opened,  then  he  ascended  a  pair  of  steps 
till  his  head  touched  the  floor  between  the  string  pieces  of  some, 
building  above.  Pulling  a  wire  near  him,  a  bell  could  be  faintly 
heard.  His  guide  waited  fully  a  minute,  then  there  was  an  answer 
so  near  Robert  that  he  would  have  jumped  had  he  been  a  nervous 
man.  His  guide  seemed  satisfied.  He  pressed  his  shoulder  against 
a  trap  door  and  Robert  followed  him  up  the  steps  into  a  luxuriously 
furnished  apartment.  A  girl  with  beautiful  hair  and  eyes  was 
gazing  at  him  in  admiration  and  astonishment  while  she  held  a 
pistol  tinder  the  chin  of  the  disfigured  "Red  Leary." 

"Who  are  you?" 

"Who  am  I?     Well,   dat  is  good.     Don't   ye  know  me   Kit?" 

"No,  I  don't.     How  did  you  come  here?" 

"Oh,  quit  yer  kiddin,  you  know  me.  I  am  de  'eitak'  weazle 
and  me  friend  is  a  new  member.  He  has  de  password.  Take  dat 
gun  away  from  me  throat  and  ask  him  fer  de  word." 

Robert  gave  the  password,  and  a  look  of  something  like  relief 
and  interest  was  noticed  in  her  face  as  she  lowered  her  weapon. 
Without  further  parley,  they  passed  out  into  a  narrow  street  called 
"Custom  House  Place."  Indeed  this  was  a  cesspool  of  crime,  for 
he  could  see  it  stamped  on  every  face  as  he  passed  along.  Wend- 
ing his  way  in  and  out  among  the^warms  of  painted  women,  many 
with  short  dresses  who  accosted  him  at  every  step  and  fought  with 
each  other  to  determine  who  should  pluck  this  fine  looking  pigeon, 
but  none  was  destined  to  ^succeed.  If  it  had  been  lighter  so  they 
could  have  better  read  his  face,  they  would  have  thought  twice 
before  they  accosted  him  at  all.  His  mouth  was  set  and  determined 
while  his  eyes  denoted  a  fixed_  purpose.  They  were  keen  and  glit- 
tering, and  took  in  every  detail  of  the  surroundings  as  he  hurried 
along  over  the  same  ground  he  had  traversed  early  in  the  evening. 
After  crossing  the  long  bridge,  he  watched  the  numbers  on  the 
buildings  until  he  found  himself  before  that  of  No.  657.  It  was  a 
large  store,  one  which  he  had  noticed  in  particular  as  he  passed  it 


238  WICKED  CITY. 

after  dropping  off  the  street  car  for  the  want  of  a  fare.  As  he  now 
stood  gazing  around  he  recalled  to  his  mind  the  sneers  of  the  gum- 
chewers,  also  the  tantalizing  words  of  the  one-armed  gambler. 

"So  they  are  'hot  taters'  over  here,  are  they?  Well,  if  my 
pimply  faced  friend  proves  up  all  right,  I  will  accept  the  challenge 
and  give  them  a  game  without  any  limit  at  all." 

Robert,  seeing  his  companion  drawing  near,  stepped  into  an 
alley.  Quickly  reversing  his  coat  and  applying  the  fluid  which  so 
altered  his  countenance,  he  appeared  before  him,  gave  the  word  and 
said  in  deaf  and  dumb  sign  language,  "Come." 

And  he  did,  although  he  was  more  mystified  than  ever. 

"Well,  I'll  go  tru  dis  'ere  play  if  it  costs  me  a  life.  GeeJ  but 
what  eyes  de  pal  o'  de  captin  has  got.  Dey  look  plum  tru  a 
feller.  Dey  are  worse  den  de  X-Ray  Kit  wuz  tellin  about.  I'll 
bet  he'll  scare  em  to  death  if  he  don't  do  anything  else.  But  I 
dunno  wirl  dem  X-Rays  lamps  o'  his  an  me  Sunday-go-to-meetin 
gift  o'  gab  backed  up  wid  tree  or  four  big  cannons,  we  might  par- 
alyze em  all  long  nuf  to  walk  off  wid  de  coin." 

Further  reflections  were  brought  to  a  stop,  for  they  had  now 
entered  a  brilliantly  lighted  business  house.  He  followed  his  mys- 
terious companion  who  crowded  his  way  through  the  throng  of 
Saturday  evening  customers  and  halted  before  the  cashier's  desk. 
Drawing  their  revolvers,  they  took  possession  of  it,  and  in  almost 
less  time  than  it  takes  to  relate  it,  they  were  again  on  the  street 
running  for  dear  life  with  the  receipts  of  the  day's  business  in  their 
possession.  It  was  certainly  a  bold  act.  Women  fainted,  while 
men.  stood  spell-bound.  Then  they  started  in  pursuit,  fifteen  or 
twenty  in  number.  The  two  robbers  saw  them  coming  and  halted 
for  a  moment  while  the  mysterious  tall  man  remarked  to  his  com- 
panion : 

"Do  you  see  that  fellow  running  ahead  of  the  others?" 

"Yep.  I  knows  dat  guy.  He's  one  of  dem  would-be  detec- 
tives. De  gang  calls  'im  'Jimmy  Milkweed,  the  vegetable  detec- 
tive.' " 

"Well,  I  will  just  stop  the  whole  push  by  putting  a  couple  of 
airholes  through  the  silk  of  your  friend  'Jimmy  Milkweed,  the  veg- 
etable detective,'  as  you  call  him." 

Bang !     Bang ! 

The  hat  flew  off.  The  owner  tumbled  to  the  walk,  swearing 
he  was  killed,  while  the  others  fell  over  him  and  came  to  a  dead 
stop.  Nobody  seemed  very  anxious  to  continue  the  chase.  Mean- 
time the  bold  robbers  ran  a  short  distance  and  turned  into  a  de- 
serted side  street.  Here  they  fell  in  a  walk  and  halted  in  the  mouth 
of  a  dark  alley.  The  short  robber  was  furious  and  commenced  to 
sputter : 

"Wat  in  h —  did  yer  pal  do  t'  me  face?  Hie  has  ruined  me  fer 
life.  He  has  spoilt  me  good  looks." 

"What  are  you  hollering  about?" 

"Wy,  me  face.  I  jes  got  a  glimpse  o'  it  in  a  glass  over  t'  dat 
store  an  me  purty  mug  is  spoilt.  It's  no  wonder  Kit  didn't  know 


WICKED   CITY.  ii39 

me,  an  de  folks  wat  we  just  put  de  blocks  to  ud  know  me  any- 
where." 

"Well,  that's  just  what  you  want.  That  is  the  idea  of  it 
exactly." 

While  he  was  talking,  he  had  produced  another  vial  and  under 
cover  of  the  darkness  saturated  his  finger  tips  with  a  few  drops  of 
the  contents. 

"Let's  see  your  face.     Oh,  it  is  pretty  bad,  and  that  is  a  fact." 

Passing  his  saturated  fingers  over  the  blotches,  they  disap- 
peared like  magic,  but  the^  late  possessor  of  them  was  ignorant  of 
this  and  left  for  his  den  in  anything  but  a  happy  frame  of  mind, 
although  he  carried  with  him  $580.  His  tall  and  mysterious  com- 
panion had  helped  himself  to  a  twenty  dollar  note  and  some  change 
and  was  now  standing  among  the  excited  crowd  as  the  Cuban  Span- 
iard. He  listened  to  everything  with  keen  satisfaction  and  watched 
the  officers  and  detectives  as  they  began  to  gather.  Becoming  tired 
of  this  amusement,  he  returned  to  the  den.  Groping  his  way  along 
the  passage,  he  pushed  the  door  open  and  found  "Red"  with  his  feet 
cocked  upon  the  table,  smoking,  while  he  swore  between  every  puff. 

"What's  the  matter?" 

"Wat's  de  matter?  Ye  go  an  spoil  a  feller's  face  an  den  ye 
got  de  gall  t'  ask  him  wat's  de  matter?" 

"Oh,  I  will  fix  that  for  you  all  right  in  a  minute.  Where's 
the  swagg?" 

"Dere  it  is  an  to  h —  wid  it.  I  wouldn't  'av  'ad  me  face  spoilt 
fer  all  de  coin  west  o'  de  crick." 

"Well,  if  you  are  going  to  cry  about  it,  why  I  guess  I  will 
have  to  make  a  few  passes  like  this  and  say,  'Presto,  change,  electo 
conclogy,  flimology,  pass  away'  and  away  they  go.  There  you  are 
and  you  are  as  pretty  as  ever." 

"Oh,  cheese  yer  kiddrn.  I  know  I  always  wuz  ez  ugly — ez 
ugly  ez  a  camp  meetin  preacher,  but  now  I  look  like  me  face  had 
been  run  tru  a  sausage  machine." 

He  jerked  his  feet_  off  the  table  and  commenced  to  pace  up 
and  down,  making  the  air  blue  with  his  curses.  Robert  smiled,  and 
taking  a  small  pocket  mirror  from  his  coat  he  passed  it  over  to  him 
saying : 

"Now  don't  break  that,  but  take  a  rubber  at  yourself." 

The  weasel  did  so  with  a  scowl,  which  was  quickly  changed 
into  amazement  and  expressions  of  wonderment  fell  from  his  lips 
as  he  peered  at  his  reflection  incredulously. 

"Well,  ef  ye  ain't  de  devil  I'll  eat  me  hat  How'd  ye  do  it?" 
There  was  not  a  blotch  on  his  face. 

"Here,  I  will  fix  you  and  after  this  you  can  fix  yourself  up 
when  you  make  a  business  call.  Have  you  any  small  bottles  lying 
around  ?" 

"Guess  I  have.  I'll  see." 

He  disappeared  in  another  room  and  soon  returned  with  the 
required  articles.  Robert  took  a  small  leather  case  from  his  pocket. 
Opening  this,  the  weasel's  wondering  eyes  behald  a  row  of  small 


240  WICKED  CITY. 

flat  vials,  some  full  and  others  partially  filled  with  liquids  of  dif- 
ferent colors.  Extracting  two,  one  red  and  the  other  green,  he 
emptied  half  of  their  contents  into  the  vials  furnished  by  the 
weazle.  Inserting  the  needle  in  the  cork  from  the  vial  containing 
the  red  fluid,  he  replaced  the  corks  in  both  and  said : 

"Now,  there  you  are,  needle  and  all.  This  one  with  the  needle 
is  the  one  you  are  to  manufacture  blotches  with,  and  this  one  is 
the  little  'presto-change'  affair." 

"Well,  but  ye  didn't  have  dis  yere  stuff  wen  ye  said  'presto- 
change'  and  drove  em  away." 

"Oh,  I  was  only  stringing  you  a  little,  but  if  you  have  occasion 
to  use  this  again,  merely  dampen  your  fingers  and  pass  it  over  the 
spots  and  they  will  disappear.  Now  you  must  get  you  a  strong  lit- 
tle leather  case  to  protect  them  should  you  get  into  one  of  your 
rough-and-tumble  scraps." 

"Well  by  thunder!  If  ye  aint  de  best  I  ever  see!  But  say, 
wy  didn't  ye  fix  yer  pal  wid  de  white  face  up  dat  way?" 

"Oh,  he  didn't  need  any  fixing.     Don't  you  worry  about  him." 

"Well,  he  made  me  flesh  creep.     He  aint  a  spook,  is  he?" 

"You  can  call  him  that  if  you  want  to.  I  haven't  named 
him  yet." 

"Well,  de  spook's  a  bute.  You  aut  t'  seed  'im.  Wy,  he  wus 
quicker  an  chain  lightning.  I  guess  de  merchants  tout  a  cyclone  had 
struck  em.  Did  ye  see  us?" 

"Yes,  I  was  protecting  your  'get-away,'  but  don't  ask  so  many 
questions.  Plant  these  vials  in  your  clothes  and  let's  cut  this  coin 
in  two.  I  must  blow  at  once." 

"All  right,  captin,  ye  knows  yer  business.  I  can  see  dat. 
Let's  see,  de  coin  goes  tree  ways,  don't  it?" 

"Yes,  you,  my  pal  and  I." 

They  divided  the  ill-gotten  gains  into  three  piles.  Robert  took 
two  of  them  and  left,  agreeing  to  return  the  next  day  at  a  certain 
hour.  As  the  "spook"  and  Robert  were  one,  two-thirds  of  the  ill- 
gotten  gains  fell  to  him. 

"BREAK-O'-DAY"  KIT'S  RETREAT  AND  LOUIS  PAL- 
MELLO  OF  CUBA. 

It  was  late  when  Robert  arose  the  following  day  and  while  he 
was  indulging  in  an  eye-opener,  the  dispenser  of  drinks  called  his 
attention  to  an  article  in  the  daily  paper  regarding  the  hold-up  of 
the  night  before,  little  dreaming  that  he  was  the  principal. 

"Did  you  ever  see  anything  as  bold  as  that  in  your  country?" 
he  asked. 

"Well,  no,  I  don't  know  as  I  ever  did.  It  was  certainly  a  bold 
piece  of  business,  but  I  suppose  your  police  will  gather  them  in 
before  night." 

"Sure  thing !  They  probably  have  them  by  this  time.  Noth- 
ing like  that  ever  gets  away  from  the  chief,  but  it  certainly  was  the 


WICKED   CITY.  241 

boldest  work  I  ever  heard  of.  Just  think  of  it,  the  paper  says  the 
store  was  crowded  with  customers,  and  the  bandits  can  be  identified 
anywhere,  for  one  was  tall,  light  complexioned,  well  built  with 
refined  features  and  dressed  in  the  latest  style,  while  his  companion, 
the  short  one,  had  a  mass  of  red  blotches  on  his  face,  probably 
from  some  awful  disease,  and  with  such  a  good  description  they 
can  not  get  away.  It  would  be  impossible.  Don't  you  think  so?" 

"Yes,  it  looks  that  way.  You  have  certainly  got  a  good  police 
system  here  and  they  seem  to  cope  more  successfully  with  the  crim- 
inal element  than  in  my  city  or  even  other  cities  I  have  visited.  In 
fact,  I  have  been  better  impressed  with  the  few  I  have  met  of  your 
large  force  than  I  was  with  those  I  met  in  London." 

"Have  you  met  the  chief  yet.  ?" 

"No,  I  still  have  the  pleasure  coming.  What  kind  of  a  man 
is  he?" 

"Oh,  he  is  a  gentleman,  all  right,  and  a  good  fellow,  but  of 
course  he  has  enemies,  the  same  as  every  man  in  his  profession  is 
bound  to  have.  You  show  me  a  man  who  has  no  enemies  at  all. 
and  I  will  show  you  a  fool.  He  is  all  right,  and  has  handled  this 
big  city  full  of  crime  pretty  well  so  far,  and  I'll  bet  some  of  his 
sleuths  will  put  a  crimp  in  that  tall  and  short  bandit  before  the 
sun  goes  down  to-night." 

"Well,  I  wish  him  luck.  I  must  go  to  breakfast  and  mean- 
while glance  over  my  mail." 

There  was  a  letter  from^  Gordon  stating  that  he  had  called  a 
number  of  times,  and  once  with  Dorris,  and  closed  by  hoping  to  see 
him  at  Ivy  cottage  or  at  the  Palmer  house  during  the  evening. 
There  was  also  one  from  Mrs.  Waite,  a  motherly  little  epistle  urg- 
ing him  to  come  away  from  the  heart  of  the  city  and  enjoy  the 
balmy  air  with  them. 

"Nothing  from  Dorris!" 

He  impatiently  thrust  the  letters  into  his  pocket  and  devoted 
his  attention  to  the  meal  and  a  party  of  gentlemen  at  the  next  table 
who  were  discussing  the  robbery.  They  little  dreamed  that  one  ot 
the  bold,  bad  bandits  was  breathing  the  same  air  and  listening  to 
their  comments. 

Robert  spent  the  evening  with  "the  weazle"  and  Kit,  the  Break- 
O'Day  lass,  meantime  familiarizing  himself  with  the  place,  above  as 
well  as  below.  They  also  showed  him  a  secret  chamber  off  from 
the  main  room  of  the  den.  The  entrance  was  through  a  door  off 
from  the  wall  and  was  so  cleverly  disguised  by  the  many  pictures 
that  he  had  failed  to  notice  it  before.  The  walls  were  padded  and 
it  was  handsomely  furnished,  seemingly  with  odds  and  ends,  prob- 
ably stolen.  They  did  not  enlighten  him  and  he  asked  no  ques- 
tions. He  noticed  a  strong  door  leading  from  this.  They  opened 
it  with  a  large  key.  This  was  a  damp-smelling  place  and  he  heard 
a  scampering  and  squeaking  noise  as  from  large  rats,  but  the  dark- 
ness was  so  intense  he  could  see  nothing. 

"What  do  you  use  this  foul-smelling  hole  for?" 

"Well,  dat's  were  Kit  puts  a  guy  dat's  a  little  off  color  and 


242  WICKED  CITY. 

won't  add  a  couple  more  figures  to  de  check  she  is  shaking  him 
down  fur.  Oh,  I  tell  ye,  ye  wudn't  believe  it,  but  dere's  sonic 
awful  big  swells  o'  dis  city  ben  de  guests  o'  de  rats  in  dere,  an  dey 
don't  stay  dere  long  eder  til  dey  cave  an  puts  dere  fists  to  de  paper. 
We  calls  it  de  'rat-pit.' " 

"And  it  is  well  named,  according  to  what  you  say.  Then  there 
are  others  who  know  of  this  underground  boudoir  and  prison?" 

"Budwa?    Wat's  dat?" 

The  woman  laughed,  and  not  an  unpleasant  laugh,  either,  show- 
ing a  gleaming  set  of  even  teeth  -under  the  brilliant  eyes,  as  she 
explained  Robert's  meaning  to  the  weazle. 

"Oh,  I  see,  ye  may  call  it  de  'budwa'  ef  ye  wants  ter,  but  we 
calls  it  de  'oil  room/  and  nobody  knows  about  it  cept  de  regular 
members  o'  de  'Wit  Club.'  I  calls  it  de  'Wit  Club'  cause  dem  colts 
wen  dey  all  gets  together  here  are  de  wittiest  bunch  o'  sure  ting 
grafters  ye  ever  see.  But  dem  guys  wat  Kit  had  down  here  in  de 
rat-pit,  dey  were  full  o'  knock-out  drops  and  blindfolded  so  as  dey 
couldn't  see.  Dere  was  only  two  or  tree  off  color  ones,  and  dey 
daren't  squeal,  even  if  tey  did  get  next." 

"Oh,  I  see,  it's  quite  clever." 

"Well,  Kit's  de  one  wat  gets  credit  fer  dat,  fer  dat's  her  own 
graft,  an  she  aint  got  no  side  lines  either  dat's  strong  enough.  Oh, 
she  gets  all  kinds.  One  guy  was  de  'main  squeeze'  at — " 

The  woman  interrupted  and  said:  "Red,  that  will  do  now, 
you  mustn't  mention  names." 

"I  warn't  a-goin  t'  mention  no  names.  I  war  jes  a-goin  t'  say 
as  he  was  de  'main  squeeze*  o'  de — " 

"Well,  ring  off,"  she  interrupted.  "Your  friend  is  probably 
not  interested  in  such  matters." 

"Well,  I  guess  I  know  who  I'm  a  talkin  t',  don't  I?  It  don't 
go  no  furder  fer  he  is  de  double  hinge  clam,  he  is." 

"I  don't  doubt  that  for  a  moment.  If  I  did,  he  wouldn't  be 
here  in  the  den  with  us  unless  it  was  a  case  of  his  leaving  it  feet 
first." 

"Oh,  yer  de  right  article,  Kit,  but  less  go  up  and  crack  a  few 
bottles  wile  ye  get  better  acquainted  wid  me  new  pal,  and  wen  ye 
do,  ye  won't  be  leary  o'  slingin  gab  before  him." 

They  returned  to  the  building  above.  The  woman  seemed  to 
be  smitten  with  this  dark-faced  man  and  exerted  all  the  wiles  in 
her  power  to  bring  him  to  her  feet,  but  progress  in  that  direction 
was  slow.  His  thoughts  were  of  a  pure  girl  in  a  home  of  virtue. 
She  sang  to  him  and  tried  to  interest  him  with  some  of  the  latest 
steps  in  a  very  suggestive  dance,  while  Red  patted  the  accom- 
paniments. Wine  flowed  like  water  until  the  weazle  was  laid  out 
on  a  rich  sofa,  which  had  been  the  resting  place  of  men  of  note 
while  inspecting  the  wickedest  ruts  of  the  wicked  city.  But  Rob- 
ert left  the  house  soon  after  with  a  cool  head  and  his  thoughts 
still  on  the  banks  of  the  river.  The_  woman  ^as^  disappointed  but 
not  discouraged,  and  made  up  her  mind  to  win  his  favor. 


WICKED   CITY.  243 

As  he  passed  through  the  entrance  of  his  hotel,  Robert's  quick 
eye  caught  a  glimpse  of  Gordon  sitting  near  the  window  of  the 
reception  room.  Later  there  was  a  knock  at  his  door,  but  he  retired 
without  answering  it. 

After  breakfast  the  following  morning  he  had  disguised  him- 
self to  go  out.  As  he  opened  his  door,  he  stood  face  to  face  with 
his  brother,  who,  with  raised  knuckles,  was  just  about  to  rap. 
Robert's  active  brain  worked  out  the  part  he  must  play  with  won- 
derful rapidity.  He  said,  "Ah,  Robert,  you  have  come  at  last.  I 
have  been  waiting  some  time  and  was  about  to  leave  to  fill  another 
engagement." 

Gordon  was  completely  thrown  off,  and  supposed  this  was  some 
friend  of  Robert's  who  took  him  for  Robert  just  returned  and 
replied : 

"Pardon  me,  you  are  mistaken.  You  must  take  me  for  my 
brother." 

They  had  advanced  farther  into  the  room  where  the  light  was 
better  and  Robert,  the  supposed  friend,  pretended  to  look  closer. 

"Oh,  pardon  me,  I  see  my  mistake,  but  you  look  wonderfully 
alike." 

"Yes,  we  do,  your  mistake  was  very  natural.  As  boys,  we  were 
often  taken  for  one  another." 

They  both  waited,  meantime,  chatting  as  two  chance  acquaint- 
ances will.  He  had  introduced  himself  as  "Louis  Palmello"  of 
Cuba.  At  last  they  left  the  building  and  strolled  down  the  boule- 
vard. They  seemed  to  strike  up  a  friendship,  and  Gordon,  in  his 
good  hearted,  impulsive  way  invited  him  to  accompany  him  to  Ivy 
cottage,  where  they  would  probably  find  Robert  before  them.  And 
so  this  is  how  it  came  about  that  Robert,  as  Mr.  Louis  Palmello 
of  Cuba,  became  a  calling  acquaintance  of  those  at  the  cottage,  as 
Gordon's  friend.  So  this  clever  man  of  many  parts  went  on  play- 
ing out  his  hand.  He  was  adding  another  string  to  his  bow. 
Would  he  be  able  to'  manipulate  all? 

TWO  GROOMS— ONE  BRIDE.    THE  LONG  AND 
SHORT  OF  IT. 

Now  ihere  was  hardly  a  day  passed  but  some  robbery  took 
place,  unequaled  in  boldness  and  audacity,  apparently  by  the  same 
two  bandits  that  held  up  the  12th  street  business  house.  The  great 
drag-net  was  cast  over  the  city  and  gathered  in  its  meshes  many 
well-known  criminals,  but  the  tall,  genteel  robber  and  the  short 
robber  with  a  pimpled  face,  who  always  swore  like  a  pirate,  were 
at  large  and  the  police  were  much  puzzled.  They  had  made  many 
arrests,  but  not  one  of  them  could  be  identified  as  either  the  tall 
or  short  bandit.  So  the  tall  and  short  men  became  terrors  and  a 
by-word  on  the  lips  of  everybody.  The  daily  papers,  which  before 
had  devoted  only  a  half  column,  now  gave  them  two  or  three,  and 
sometimes  a  whole  page,  with  interesting  cuts  of  the  scene  where 


244  WICKED  CITY. 

the  robberies  took  place.  The  seventh  was  a  sad  day  for  the  busi- 
ness men  of  Chicago,  for  one  of  their  number,  a  proud  merchant, 
proprietor  of  one  of  the  largest  mercantile  houses  on  the  West 
Side,  had  been  murdered  as  everybody  naturally  supposed  by  the 
notorious  "long  and  short  men."  But  they  were  mistaken  in  part, 
for  while  the  brave  merchant  was  weltering  in  his  blood,  gasping 
and  trying  to  retain  the  breath  that  was  fast  leaving  his  body,  Rob- 
ert Long  (alias  Louis  Palmello,  the  Cuban,  alias  the  spook,  alias 
number  "49,"  and  known  to  every  reader  of  the  many  dailies  far 
and  near  as  the  "long  man")  was  standing  at  the  side  of  Dorris, 
the  object  of  his  one  great  passion,  and  the  ceremony  was  in  full 
sway  that  would  make  them  man  and  wife.  How  could  this  be? 
We  will  go  back  a  day  or  two. 

Robert  had  confided  in  the  "weazle"  and  they  were  busily 
working  on  the  reversible  hat  (a  plan  which  the  fertile  brain  of 
the  convict  had  at  last,  after  long  study,  worked  into  practical 
relief  from  the  chaos  of  seemingly  impossible  ideas  running  in  his 
mind  regarding  it)  when  two  of  the  colts  (as  Red  called  them) 
came  clattering  in  to  the  underground  retreat.  They  both  jumped 
to  their  feet.  Robert  whipped  out  two  large  revolvers  and  ordered 
them  to  throw  up  their  hands.  They  were  two  very  much  aston- 
ished men,  and  their  hands  went  up  under  that  stern  command. 
They  looked  at  the  "weazle"  who  laughingly  explained  matters  to 
all  parties,  then  told  them  that  Robert  was  to  be  their  new  "captin," 
and  in  the  future  they  were  to  go  to  him  with  their  troubles  and  to 
look  to  him  for  their  orders.  They  seemed  to  have  confidence  in 
the  "weazle"  and  settled  the  question  over  a  bottle  of  wine  by 
merely  saying,  "Well,  wat  suits  you,  Red,  suits  us.  I  guess  he  kin 
fill  de  bill.  I  know  one  ting,  he  can  'draw  a  pair'  quicker  dan  any 
guy  I  ever  see,  an  his  bluff  is  good.  Wy,  we'd  of  trowed  up  our 
feet,  too,  ef  he'd  of  ordered  us  to  in  dat  tone  o'  voice.  Oh,  he's 
good  at  dat  game." 

Robert  then  laid  down  the  law  to  them ;  that  they  should  go  by 
numbers  instead  of  names,  (1,  2,  3,  4,)  and  should  look  to  number 
"2"  for  their  orders  when  he  was  absent  and  they  should  take  turns 
in  accompanying  him  on  his  raids,  also  that  they  must  associate 
with  no  women  at  all  except  Kit.  The  penalty  of  disobeying  this 
rule  would  be  confinement  in  the  "rat  pit,"  and  the  penalty  of 
betraying  a  companion  would  be  death.  And,  above  all,  they  were 
to  obey  instructions  without  asking  questions,  even  though  it 
seemed  to  them  impractical.  This  being  settled  to  everybody's  sat- 
isfaction, the  "weazel,"  or  number  "2"  as  he  is  now  known,  told 
them  of  the  "spook,"  the  captain's  silent  pal,  who  was  on  the  out- 
side all  the  time  and  worked  up  the  lays. 

"Wat  lays?"  they  asked. 

"You'll  see.  Dere  is  one  comin  off  day  after  to-morrow,  aint 
it,  captin?" 

"Yes,  on  the  7th  at  8  sharp,  and  I  may  let  you  take  "3"  and 
"4"  with  you  so  I  can  see  what  kind  of  game  they  put  up." 


WICKED  CITY.  245 

"Oh,  dey  are  all  right,  captin.  My  kids  are  the  pluckiest  guys 
ye  ever  see  outside  o'  de  'spook'  an  yerself." 

"Yes,  but  it  takes  something  besides  pluck,  but  I  guess  they  will 
be  all  right.  They  look  wise  enough  and  nervy  enough.  Let  me 
see,  you  are  all  about  the  same  height.  That's  good.  Well,  I  must 
leave  you,  I  have  some  business  with  the  'spook'  out  of  town,  so 
take  care  of  yourself  till  I  see  you  again." 

"Who  is  the  new  captin?"  they  both  inquired  in  a  breath  as  the 
door  closed  on  Robert,  alias  Louis  Palmello. 

"Who  is  he?  Well,  dere  ye  go  askin  questions.  Ye'll  find  out 
soon  enough  ef  ye  go  out  wid  'im." 

"Wat'll  he  do  dat  we  can't  do?  We  ken  stand  de  clip  wid  any 
guy  in  de  biz  unless  it  might  be  de  'long  and  short'  uns,  dey  are  a 
little  swift." 

"Yes,  dem  guys  'ave  got  nerve,  an  dat's  no  kid,"  said  num- 
ber "3.' 

"Do  ye  know  who  dey  are,  Red?"  number  "4"  inquired. 

"Do  I?    Well,  I  should  cough  up  a  cheese.    Of  course  I  do." 

"Who  are  dey?" 

The  "weazle"  made  a  motion  of  his  head  towards  the  door 
through  which  Robert  had  passed. 

"He's  de  'long'  of  it  and  I  am  de  'short'  of  it." 

"Go  way !" 

"Too  true." 

Number  "3"  and  number  "4"  stared  in  amazement  awed  into 
silence  by  this  wonderful  piece  of  news. 

On  his  way  out  Robert  passed  a  few  words  with  Kit,  the  "Break- 
o'-Day-Lass,"  as  the  colts  termed  her,  and  then  down  the  narrow 
street  teaming  with  corruption  and  vice.  The  demimondes  that 
made  up  two-thirds  of  the  motley  mass  of  depraved  humanity  knew 
his  face  and  he  came  and  went  unmolested. 

The  following  day  found  him  at  Ivy  cottage,  where  he  had,  as 
the  Spanish  Cuban,  wormed  his  way  into  the  good  graces  of  Mrs. 
Waite  and  Dorris.  They  anxiously  inquired  if  he  had  yet  seen  Rob- 
ert. Hie  told  them  he  had,  and  that  he  was  making  preparations  to 
leave  for  Cuba,  during  the  evening  some  time.  This  news  grieved 
them  very  much. 

"Did  you  hand  him  the  invitation  to  Dorris  and  Gordon's 
wedding,  on  the  7th?" 

"Yes,  but  he  said  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  attend.  He 
does  not  seem  in  the  best  frame  of  mind — seems  worried  about 
something." 

"Won't  he  even  come  and  bid  us  good-bye?" 

"Well,  he  may.  I  tried  to  bring  him  out  with  me  but  he 
claimed  he  was  too  busy  just  at  the  time,  but  might  come  out  later 
on  to  say  good-bye,  but  I  hardly  think  he  will  come." 

These  lies  about  himself  were  accepted  as  truth  by  his  listeners. 

"Oh,  he  must  come  before  he  goes,  I  have  so  much  to  talk 
about  with  him.  Besides,  the  will  says  the  clock,  that  mysterious 


S45  WICKED  CITY. 

affair,  in  less  than  three  months  has  another  secret  to  divulge. 
Robert  should  keep  it  with  him." 

"Have  you  any  idea,  madam,  what  that  second  secret  is?" 

Mrs.  Waite's  face  paled.  She  was  too  truthful  to  tell  a  pointed 
lie,  and  replied  that  she  had,  but  that  she  had  rather  not  speak  of 
it.  The  conversation  seemed  to  have  taken  a  turn  that  dis- 
tressed her. 

"He  may  send  for  it,  if  he  doesn't  come  himself." 

Louis  Palmello's  mind  was  so  engrossed  with  a  diabolical 
scheme  he  had  in  mind  that  he  hardly  gave  the  clock  (which  played 
so  active  a  part  in  his  life)  a  thought,  any  more  than  to  make  up 
his  mind  it  should  be  sent  for  during  the  evening  and  conveyed  to 
the  underground  den. 

"I  will  have  a  treasure  there  with  it,  if  I  am  not  mistaken. 
It's  my  turn  next,  my  dear  brother.  I'll  make  your  heart  ache  aa 
bad  as  you  have  made  mine,"  thought  Robert. 

Dorris  had  glided  into  the  room  to  Mrs.  Waite's  great  relief, 
for  she  felt  nervous,  and  was  much  depressed  at  the  news  the  sup- 
posed Cuban  had  brought  her. 

Gordon  was  busy  at  his  hotel  arranging  for  the  coming  wed- 
ding and  immediate  departure.  Jarl  was  industriously  packing 
trunk  after  trunk  getting  them  ready  to  ship.  He  was  not  much 
pleased  with  the  prospect  of  leaving  the  Chicago  levee  and  his  old 
Bowery  chum,  but  his  master's  word  was  law. 

The  supposed  Cuban  made  only  a  short  stay  at  the  cottage,  and 
Gordon  had  hardly  finished  laying  out  the  articles  of  evening  dress 
he  was  intending  to  wear  at  his  wedding,  when  he  dropped  in  to 
see  if  he  could  be  of  any  assistance,  so  he  claimed. 

"You  know,  my  boy,  there  are  many  little  things  a  bridegroom 
might  forget,  naturally,  being  a  little  confused.  Now  are  these  the 
articles  you  are  to  wear?" 

"Yes,  I  guess  I  have  about  everything  out  that  I  need  till  I 
reach  England." 

"You  take  the  10:  30  p.  retrain,  do  you^not?" 

"Yes,  we  will  just  have  time  to  make  it  after  the  ceremony." 

"Well,  well,  I  am  sure  you  will  be  a  happy  man.  You  are 
indeed  a  lucky  one." 

"Yes,  I  am  fortunate  to  possess  the  love  of  one  so  pure,  so 
angelic  and  so  noble  of  heart.  She  can  not  bear  to  pain  anyone, 
and  the  fact  that  pur  happy  expectations  are,  in  a  certain  way, 
derived  from  the  misfortune  of  my  dear  brother — God  bless  him ! — 
is  the  only  cloud  before  us.  I  hope  Robert  will  think  better  of  his 
actions  and  return  to  us.  Then  it  will  be  one  long  rose-strewn 
path  of  happiness." 

"Well,  believe  me,  my  friend,  when  I  say  that  I  hope  you  will 
find  no  thorns  along  this  path  of  roses." 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Palmello,  for  your  kind  wish.  I  hope  'it  may 
be  fulfilled."  And  they  chatted  some  time,  Gordon  not  once  sus- 
pecting the  ruse.  , 


WICKED  CITY.         •  247 

Meanwhile,  Robert,  the  supposed  Cuban,  was  taking  in  every 
detail  of  Gordon's  evening  dress,  and  before  the  sun  set  he  had  the 
exact  duplicate  of  them  in  his  rooms.  It  seemed  that  two  grooms 
were  preparing  to  wed  one  bride,  and  such  was  the  case.  As  Rob- 
ert, he  now  sent  a  messenger  with  a  note  of  farewell  to  Mrs.  Waite 
and  Dorris.  He  also  told  them  that  if  they  wished,  they  might 
send  the  clock.  And  so  it  came  with  a  motherly  and  sisterly  re- 
sponse from  Dorris  and  her  mother.  He  took  the  clock  with  him 
that  evening  to  the  den,  where  it  ticked  off  the  minutes  and  played 
sweet  tunes  for  the  amazed  members  of  the  "Wit  Club." 

THE  ABDUCTION  AND   PURSUIT. 

Events  now  followed  each  other  in  such  rapid  succession,  events 
so  startling  and  wonderful,  that  to  portray  each  and  every  one  in 
detail  would  fill  volumes  and  take  years  to  prepare  for  the  press; 
therefore,  the  author  will  be  obliged  to  refer  the  reader  to  :he 
newspaper  accounts  of  the  "long  and  short"  bandits'  bold  deeds,  led 
by  Robert,  while  he  at  the  same  time  carried  out  a  diabolical  scheme 
which  morally  was  more  criminal  than  robbery  or  murder,  and 
almost  too  horrible  to  relate.  But  facts  are  stubborn  things,  and  it 
is  hard  to  guide  your  pen  around  them. 

It  was  now  the  eve  of  the  7th.  There  were  preparations  of  all 
kinds  going  on.  Robert,  the  captain  of  the  "Wits,"  left  instruc- 
tions with  number  "3"  and  number  "4"  to  meet  him  and  the  "spook" 
near  the  merchant's  store  they  had  planned  to  hold  up  at  8  p.  m. 
He  did  this  with  an  object.  He  knew  he  could  not  be  there  him- 
self, as  he  had  a  bigger  deal  on  (as  he  expressed  it  to  "weazel"), 
but  he  wished  them  out  of  the  way  when  he  returned  from  the 
wedding,  for  if  his  cleverly  planned  scheme  succeeded,  he  would 
bring  a  blushing  bride  with  him  to  grace  the  padded  room  the 
"weazle"  called  the  "oil  room." 

"Oh,  we'll  be  dere,  captin,  an  we'll*  show  ye  whether  we  ken 
handle  de  persuaders  or  not,"  said  numbers  "3"  and  "4." 

"Well,  I  will  see  how  you  handle  yourself  and  then  I  will  tell 
you  whether  you  will  do  for  that  kind  of  work  or  not." 

So  he  left  them  to  prepare  for  their  raid  on  the  merchant, 
while  he  and  the  "weazle"  prepared  for  something  more  horrible. 
They  talked  over  their  plans  before  Kit.  the  "Break-o'-Day-Lass," 
who  was  now  completely  at  the  will  of  this  strange  man.  She  wor- 
shined  him  like  a  dog  does  its  master  and  was  willing  to  do  his 
bidding,  no  matter  what.  She  had  in  her  life  pretended  love  for 
many  men,  but  this  was  the  first  time  she  loved  in  reality,  and  to 
him  she  gave  all  the  love  you  will  find  in  women  of  this  class.  It 
was  not  a  jealous  love,  for  if  he  could  find  any  pleasure  in  enjoying 
the  favors  of  another,  she  was  satisfied.  She  also  knew  that  her 
love  was  not  returned,  and  now  she  knew  that  he  was  going  to 
brine1  a  bride  to  the  den,  but  she  only  seemed  pleased  that  she 
could  furnish  him  with  an  eleeart  bridal  chamber  and  her  services 
to  look  after  things  to  promote  his  pleasure  and  guard  his  treasure. 


248  WICKED   CITY. 

She  was  certainly  a  peculiar  woman,  and  this  was  a  peculiar  kind 
of  love,  something  out  of  the  ordinary,  still  she  was  a  bright. 
clever  woman,  a  woman  that  had  brought  some  of  the  best  to  her 
feet  with  pockets  of  gold  and  burning  words  to  beseech  her  favors. 
Many  a  heart  she  had  trampled  on  and  many  a  life  she  had  ruined ; 
but  now  she,  too,  loved,  as  they  had  loved,  and  she  realized  then- 
feelings.  But  as  she  did  so,  she  also  made  up  her  mind  that  she 
would  be  "game"  as  she  expressed  it,  and  not  play  the  part  they 
had  many  times,  causing  her  to  laugh  and  mock  them,  while  she 
at  the  same  time  pitied  them  for  their  weakness.  No,  she  would 
be  "game."  It  was  only  her  just  deserts.  She  found  she  had  a 
heart  and  the  finding  of  it  was  her  punishment. 

Robert  saw  all  of  this  and  made  use  of  her  as  he  would  a 
slave.  He  knew  he  could  trust  her,  and  did.  He  gave  his  orders 
to  her  and  the  "weazle,"  and  then  left. 

"You,  Kit,  are  to  stay  in  to-night  and  be  ready  to  open  that 
door  the  minute  I  give  you  the  signal,  and  you  must  not  receive 
any  company  to-night;  also  prepare  your  boudoir  or  the  'oil  room.' 
or  whatever  you  call  it,  for  one  of  the  daintiest  flowers  that 
blooms."  She  winced  as  he  said  this  and  turned  to  the  "weazle." 

"Red,  you  go  and  give  your  friend  this  $10  for  the  use  of 
his  rig  tonight,  then  drive  to  the  'social'  and  pick  me  up.  Let 
on  that  you  don't  know  me.  Just  stop  in  front  and  if  anyone  is  rub- 
bering, just  haggle  with  me  like  I  was  some  'mark.'  And  here 
take  this  telegram  I  have  prepared  for  the  occasion,  and  deliver 
it  to  me  when  I  give  you  the  'office.'  Do  you  understand?" 

"Yep." 

"Well,  get  your  legs  to  working,  and  above  all  things  keep 
your  mind  working  and  your  guns  handy,  for  you  may  have  some 
fighting  to  do  before  we  land  our  game  safely.  And  I  don't  want  you 
to  be  at  all  stingy  with  powder.  Burn  plenty  of  it  if  it  is  neces- 
sary in  order  to  make  a  clean  'get-away'." 

"All  right,  captin,  I'll  make  some  o'  dem  guys  jump  so  high 
wid  de  first  shot  dat  ye'  can  reach  dem  wid  a  second  one." 

"Well,  I  don't  care  if  you  make  some  of  them  jump  so  high 
they  never  come  down  again,  just  so  I  get  what  we're  going 
after;  but  don't  'croak'  anybody  unless  you  have  to.  When  you 
get  to  the  social,  throw  a  couple  of  drinks  under  your  belt  to  keep 
you  awake.  This  business  of  spending  all  our  nights  and  money 
in  gambling  houses  puts  a  crimp  in  our  heads  as  well  as  in  our 
pockets." 

"All  right,  captin,  I'll  be  dere  wid  de  rig  inside  of  an  hour." 

In  less  time,  the  "weazle"  drove  up  with  the  rig  (a  closed 
carriage  with  a  fast  team  attached).  Robert  was  talking  with  a 
levee  politician  as  the  "weazle"  came  swinging  in  and  said  to  the 
barkeeper, 

"Give  me  some  o'  de  best  booze  ye  got,  some  o'  de  kind  wat 
has  about  four  hundred  fights  to  de  barrel." 

"We  haven't  anything  as  weak  as  that,  but  here  is  some  16  to  1." 

"  '16  t'  1'?    Wat  ye  givin  me?     16  t'  1  wat?" 


WICKED  CITY.  249 

"Sixteen  fights  to  one  drink.  If  that  is  too  strong  for  you  I 
am  sorry,  for  it  is  really  the  weakest  we  have." 

While  they  were  joking  with  one  another,  Rometto  and  Arlex, 
the  detectives,  dropped  in,  and,  after  looking  over  the  motley 
throng,  gathered  around  the  tables  in  the  pavilion  at  the  rear,  while 
wild  strains  of  music  jollied  the  silver  out  of  their  pockets  into  the 
cash  register  behind  the  bar.  They  joined  the  politician  and  were 
introduced  to  Robert  who  posed  as  Louis  Palmello.  The  conver- 
sation now  fell  upon  a  topic  that  was  at  this  time  agitating  the 
minds  of  every  merchant  and  business  man  in  the  city — the  "long 
and  short"  men.  And  so  it  happened  that  while  discussing  them, 
they  drank  with  them  (for  in  American  style,  they  invited  the 
"vveazle"  to  join  in).  The  bogus  cabman  seemed  to  be  pleased  at 
his  luck  to  strike  a  fare  and  soon  drove  off  with  his  passenger, 
who  was  laughing  softly  to  himself.  Leaving  the  rig  in  charge  of 
the  "weazle"  near  by  in  a  clump  of  trees,  Robert,  as  Palmello, 
presented  himself  at  the  house  which  was  ablaze  with  lights,  as 
were  the  fine  grounds  in  which  strolled  couples,  arm  in  arm,  en- 
joying the  air  and  moonlight,  while  they  waited  for  the  hour  set 
for  the  ceremony.  Carriages  were  coming  and  going,  leaving  some 
new  arrival  to  mingle  with  the  others  before  them,  and  to  discuss 
the  coming  event  which  would  deprive  them  of  the  "lady  bounti- 
ful" who  had  such  a  hold  on  the  hearts  of  all  that  it  was  hard 
for  them  to  accept  the  fact  of  her  going  out  of  their  lives.  Many 
had  known  her  since  she  was  a  child  and  none  knew  her  but  to 
love  her,  for  her  generosity,  nobleness  and  purity  of  soul.  Gordon, 
who  visited  many  of  the  doctor's  patients  with  Dorris  had  also 
won  the  favor  of  the  neighbors.  He  was  kind  and  genial  to  all. 
Dorris  and  he  had  planned  a  feast  for  all  that  wished  to  come 
and  bid  them  good-bye.  It  was  spread  under  the  trees,  hung  with 
Chinese  lanterns. 

It  was  now  twenty  minutes  to  the  hour.  The  minister,  Gor- 
don, Dr.  Warder  and  the  Cuban  were  engaged  in  pleasant  chat  on 
the  veranda  when  Henry,  the  man-servant  approached  with  the 
dispatch  in  his  hand.  Excusing  himself,  the  Cuban  read  it  and  in- 
formed them  that  he  would  be  obliged  to  forego  the  pleasure  he 
had  anticipated,  and  leave  for  the  city's  center  at  once.  He  hastily 
bid  them  all  farewell  and  started  down  the  steps ;  but  as  if  on  a 
second  thought,  he  turned  and  said  to  Gordon : 

"Oh,  I  just  happened  to  think  of  something  I  wished  to  say 
regarding  your  brother.  Will  you  accompany  me  a  few  steps  along 
the  path?" 

Gordon,  all  unsuspicious,  accomoanied  him  some  distance  be- 
yond the  summer  house,  and  after  listening  to  what  he  had  to  say, 
regarding  his  brother,  expressed  his  regrets  that  he  could  not  stay, 
and  bid  him  good-night  and  good-bye,  making  him  promise  to  visit 
them  if  he  ever  came  to  London.  As  he  started  on  his  way  back, 
he  was  thinking  what  a  pleasant  acquaintance  he  had  made,  and 
was  cudgelling  his  brain  to  determine  who  it  was  he  put  him  in 
mind  of,  when  all  of  a  sudden  everything  became  blank  and  he 


250  WICKED   CITY. 

fell  forward  on  his  face.  The  friend  of  his  thoughts  had  crept 
back  and  dealt  him  a  blow  from  behind  with  a  sandbag.  Dragging 
the  limp  form  from  the  path,  he  inserted  a  gag  in  the  mouth,  then 
tied  the  feet  and  hands.  Leaving  him  thus  secured,  he  went  to  the 
hack  and  quickly  made  the  necessary  chance  in  order  to  appear 
as  much  like  the  unconscious  man  as  possible.  He  returned  to  the 
house,  only  stopping  to  gain  possession  of  the  wedding  ring  and 
the  rose  on  Gordon's  coat,  which  he  pinned  to  his  own.  As  he 
entered,  he  imitated  Gordon's  voice  and  every  little  action  so 
cleverly  that  none  suspected  the  fraud  being  perpetrated  upon 
them.  As  he  took  his  place  at  the  blushing  girl's  side  and  the 
minister  in  solemn  tones  began  to  read  the  marriage  ceremony, 
they  noted  his  pallor,  but  thought  is  was  only  natural  under  the 
circumstances.  Dorris  never  once  raised  her  eyes  to  the  pale  face 
above  her — pale  more  from  the  confinement  in  prison  and  the  subse- 
quent too  frequent  application  of  drugs  than  emotion.  His  eyes 
noted  everything  and  he  chafed  inwardly  as  the  holy  man  showly 
and  solemnly  proceeded  with  the  ceremony,  until  he  came  to  the 
usual  question:  "Now  are  there  any  present  who  know  any  reason 
•why  I  should  not  pronounce  these  two,  man  and  wife?"  He  looked 
through  his  glasses  at  almost  every  person  in  succession  (so  it 
seemed  to  Robert)  then  glanced  out  of  the  door  and  windows, 
which  opened  on  the  veranda  where  the  country  folk  were  crowd- 
ing to  get  a  look  at  their  "lady  bountiful"  in  her  bridal  robes, 
which  would  have  been  better  for  her  and  those  who  loved  her 
so,  were  they  instead  her  shroud.  Not  a  sound  broke  the  silence. 
But  just  as  the  minister  repeated  the  question,  there  was  a  sudden 
commotion  on  the  veranda.  The  next  moment  all  was  in  confusion 
for  a  man  in  full  evening  dress  (the  exact  counterpart  of  that 
which  the  bridegroom  wore),  a  man  with  face  and  shirt  front 
streaked  with  blood,  forced  his  way  in.  He  was  dazed  and  weak, 
but  comprehended  all  the  moment  his  eyes  fell  upon  Robert.  Then 
there  was  a  scene  of  the  direst  confusion.  Women  fainted,  men 
grew  white  to  the  lips,  and  knew  not  what  to  do,  for  they  could 
not  understand  it.  Gordon  raised  his  hand  and  tried  to  speak. 

"Yes,  there  is  reason  and  good  reason  for  I  and  not  he " 

His  voice  could  hardly  be  heard,  but  Dorris  caught  the  sound 
and  with  a  scream  glanced  at  the  man  at  her  side,  then  rushed  into 
Gordon's  arms,  whose  blood  mingled  with  the  lace  at  her  bosom,  as 
he  pressed  her  to  his  heart.  Pointing  his  finger  at  Robert,  he  con- 
tinued : 

"Your  horrible  scheme  has  failed !  Thank  God  for  the  deliver- 
ance! He  sent  me  in  time  to  save  this  pure  girl's  honor.  Now 
go  and  pray  that  God  may  forgive  you,  for  I  never  can !" 

"Oh,  you  must  have  been  trying  to  commit  suicide,  I  guess, 
from  the  looks  of  you,  and  it  has  made  you  crazy,"  Robert  re- 
turned. 

"No,  you  are  mistaken ;  but  you  tried  to  commit  murder,  and 
play  even  the  part  of  Cain.  In  a  moment  more  you  would  have 
committed  an  act  worse  than  murder.  Go  from  my  sight  before  I 


WICKED  CITY.  251 

forget  myself  and  raise  my  hand  against  you.  You  do  not  merit 
the  clemency  I  am  willing  to  show  you.  But  there  is  the  door. 
Go !  and  leave  us  in  peace  to  continue  this  ceremony !" 

"Yes,  I  w_ill  go,  and  I'll  take  my  bride  with  me." 

"But  she  is  not  your  bride,  thank  God  for  that!" 

"It  would  be  better  then  that  she  was  my  bride,"  he  sneeringly 
replied,  "for  I  will  take  her  with  me,  though  it  costs  a  dozen  lives 
to  do  it!" 

As  he  spoke,  fire  flew  from  his  eyes.  He  drew  a  small 
silver  whistle  from  his  pocket  and  signalled  for  his  con" 
federate  on  the  outside.  _  The  shrill  note  hardly  struck  the  air 
when  a  figure  bounded  into  the  room  with  a  revolver  in  each 
hand.  He  ordered  the  assemblj'  to  throw  up  their  hands  and 
stand  back,  with  curses  that  would  disgrace  the  lowest  bar-room. 
Gordon  paid  no  heed  to  the  terrorizing  Red,  but  sprang  toward 
Robert,  crying, 

"Not  satisfied  with  what  you  have  done,  you  would  insult  her 
in  my  presence." 

"Well,  if  you  don't  like  to  see  her  insulted,  I  will  just  put 
you  to  sleep  so  you  won't  know  anything  about  it,"  he  brutally 
replied. 

Dorris  tried  to  prevent  it,  but  too  late.  He  dealt  Gordon  a 
stunning  blow  as  he  advanced  to  resent  the  insult  to  her.  Already 
weak  from  the  loss  of  blood,  he  now  fell.  Dorris  then  threw  her- 
self down  beside  him  with  a  heart-breaking  cry,  thinking  that  he 
was  dead.  Her  cry  burst  into  a  shriek  a  moment  later  as  Robert's 
strong  arm  encircled  her  slender  waist.  Lifting  her  bodily  from 
the  floor,  he  started  for  the  door,  but  the  doctor  and  several  others 
who  had  now  just  begun  to  realize  that  some  great  wrong  was 
being  done  endeavored  to  stop  him.  Seeing  this,  he  drove  a  couple 
of  shots  into  the  wall  just  above  their  heads.  This  was  the  si.smal 
for  the  "weazel,"  and  he  also  turned  his  weapons  loose.  Mrs. 
Waite  now  fainted,  .as  had  many  of  the  other  ladies.  The  doctor 
just  caught  her  in  time  to  save  her  from^  a  hard  fall.  All  was 
jiow  confusion.  Many  thought  Mrs.  Waite  had  been  shot,  and 
screams  rent  the  air,  blue  with  the  volleys  he  fired  from  both 
mouth  and  pistols.  When  the  smoke  _  cleared  a  little,  they  saw 
that  the  desperadoes  were  gone,  and  with  them  Dorris.  The  doc- 
tor had  his  hands  full,  but  he  found  time  to  explain  to  Henry, 
the  coachman,  who  now  came  running  in,  how  matters  were,  and 
advised  him  to  get  some  assistance  and  follow.  Many  of  the 
gentlemen  guests  now  just  beginning  to  comprehend  matters  joined 
him  in  pursuit.  They  were  able  to  keen  the  fleeing  parties  in  sight 
by  now  and  then  catching  a  glimpse  of  the  robe  she  wore.  Then  all 
of  a  sudden  this  disappeared  as  they  drew  near  a  dark  obiect 
among  the  trees — a  carriage  door  slammed,  a  smothered  shriek, 
then  a  quick  cluck-cluck  to  the  restless  horses,  a  rumble  of  wheels 
— thev  were  too  late. 

Starting  back  to  the  house,  they  stumbled  on  an  apparently 
lifeless  form.  It  was  Jarl,  who,  seeing  his  old  enemy  skulking 


252  WICKED   CITY. 

around  the  grounds,  had  come  out  to  find  him,  and,  from  the  ap- 
pearance, it  would  seem  that  he  had  done  so.  But  he  did  not 
find  him  until  after  he  had  found  and  released  his  master.  They 
carried  him  into  the  house  where  the  doctor  was  working  over 
Gordon,  with  good  results  for  soon  he  was  on  his  feet.  Dashing 
off  a  glass  of  wine,  he  asked  a  few  hurried  questions  of  the  doctor, 
who  was  now  working  over  Jarl,  telling  him  to  take  the  best  of 
care  of  his  man,  and  requesting  some  of  the  others  to  telephone 
to  the  police  stations.  He  rushed  out  hatless  and  selecting  a  swift 
looking  animal  from  the  many  that  lined  the  road  way,  he  cut  the 
harness  loose  and  was  in  the  act  of  mounting  when  a  voice  hailed 
him.  It  was  Henry,  the  Waite's  colored  man. 

"I  say,  massa  Gordon,  I's  er  gwine  wid  ye  and  yere  is  two 
big  cannons  I  dun  scared  up  in  the  stable.  Here  is  one  of  dem. 
We  mus  sabe  poor  missy." 

"Yes,  we  must  save  her,  or  die  in  the  attempt,  for  the  fate 
she  is  going  to  is  worse  than  death.  Cut  that  other  horse  loose. 
He  looks  like  a  swift  animal.  I'm  off.  You  can  follow." 

He  dug  his  heels  into  the  spirited  animal's  flanks  and  was  off 
like  a  shot  in  hot  pursuit. 

The  whole  affair,  as  terrible  as  it  was  to  these  God-fearing 
people,  had  taken  only  a  few  moments,  and  a  cloud  of  dust,  raised 
by  the  bandit's  team  could  still  be  seen  down  the  long  stretch  of 
highway.  By  urging  his  horse  to  the  highest  rate  of  speed  he  was 
soon  within  hailing  distance,  but  he  was  afraid  to*  shoot  at  the  hack. 
By  hard  riding  he  was  now  within  a  few  yards  of  it,  another  spurt 
and  he  was  alongside.  Shoving  the  big  revolver  up  towards  the 
driver,  he  ordered  him  to  halt.  The  answer  was  the  crack-crack 
of  a  pistol.  His  horse  reared  and  fell  into  the  ditch,  pinning  him 
down  to  earth.  Keeping  his  head,  he  sent  after  the  driver  bullet 
upon  bullet.  All  went  wide  for  he  was  fearful  that  he  might  hit 
his  love  within.  He  tried  in  vain  to  extricate  himself  from  under 
the  dying  horse.  His  leg  was  pinned  fast.  Hark!  what  was  that? 
The  far-off  muffled  beat  of  hoofs,  nearer  and  nearer,  plainer  and 
plainer.  At  last,  a  single  horse  and  rider  came  to  view.  It  was 
Henry,  the  colored  man.  He  was  coming  like  the  wind.  Gordon 
shouted  his  name  at  the  top  of  his  voice  to  attract  his  attention, 
but  it  was  entirely  unnecessary  for  the  horse,  on  seeing  his  mate 
struggling  in  the  agony  of  death  by  the  roadside,  stopped  so  sud- 
denly as  to  spill  his  rider  over  his  head,  who  landed  in  a  sitting 
posture,  more  surprised  than  hurt.  Bounding  to  his  feet  like  a 
rubber  ball,  he  caught  the  horse  by  the  bit.  As  he  did  so,  he  heard 
and  saw  Gordon.  The  horse  had  ended  his  struggles  for  breath. 
The  whole  dead  weight  was  upon  his  limb,  and  he  could  hardly 
crawl  after  Henry  released  him.  Taking  a  pocket  full  of  44 
cartridges  and  the  other  pistol  from  the  colored  man,  he  mounted 
the  impatient  horse  and  with  a  hard  look  on  his  generally  kind 
face,  set  off  at  a  break-neck  pace  to  continue  the  chase,  leaving  the 
surprised  negro  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  looking  after 
him,  muttering: 


WICKED   CITY.  253 

"Well,  but  he  do  make  dat  ole  boss  teah  up  the  grable,  but  wat 
is  1 1'  do  ?  I  must  help  t'  save  Missus,  but  I  shuah  can't  ride  a  dead 
hoss." 

It  was  dark  here  by  the  dead  beast  and  his  natural  superstition 
drove  him  from  the  spot.  He  followed  the  road  back  a  half  mile 
which  brought  him  to  a  house  where  he  was  known.  He  plodded 
in  here,  but  when  he  came  forth,  it  was  on  the  back  of  a  black  colt, 
one  pocket  lighter  by  a  half  month's  pay,  another  made  heavier  by 
an  extra  pistol. 


CLATTERING   HOOFS    ON    THE    HIGHWAY.    GORDON'S 
HEROIC  EFFORT  TO  SAVE  DORRIS. 

As  he  turned  into  the  road,  a  horse  passed  him  like  a  rocket.  It 
was  Jarl.  He  was  bending  low  in  the  saddle  in  regular  jockey 
fashion,  digging  his  heels  into  the  flanks  of  his  foam-flecked  steed  at 
every  jump.  The  black  colt,  with  his  black  rider,  who  was  pos- 
sessed of  a  white  heart  and  nerve  to  match,  took  the  dust  for  half 
a  mile,  then  drew  alongside.  They  hailed  each  other,  then  rode  neck 
to  neck,  while  the  colored  man  told  him  of  Gordon's  accident  and 
narrow  escape. 

Meantime  Gordon  had  lessened  the  distance  considerable.  He 
re-loaded  the  revolver  as  he  rode,  one  limb  hanging  almost  help- 
less. He  was  gaining  rapidly.  Riding  directly  behind  the  hack  he 
stooped  low  and  sent  a  couple  of  shots  under  the  rig,  hoping  to 
break  one  of  the  animal's  legs.  He  missed.  Digging  his  heels  in 
his  horse,  he  dashed  alongside  the  swaying  vehicle.  Then  there  was 
another  rapid  exchange  of  shots.  The  horse  he  rode  jumped  into 
the  air  and  ran  away  for  almost  a  half  mile,  then  suddenly  dropped 
dead  in  its  tracks.  Now  was  his  chance.  He  was  ahead  of  them. 
Dropping  down  behind  the  poor  dead  brute,  he  waited.  Soon  he 
could  hear  the  rumble  of  wheels.  A  moment  later,  he  could  plainly 
see  Red  as  he  urged  the  team,  reeking  with  sweat,  around  the  bend. 
They  were  now  close  enough  to  reach  with  a  shot,  but  he  would 
not  take  the  risk.  A  bullet  for  the  team  or  driver  might  reach  her, 
for  he  was  well  aware  of  the  fact  that  he  was  not  an  expert  marks- 
man, and  lay  perfectly  still  till  they  were  upon  him.  The  driver, 
who  held  a  pistol  in  one  hand  while  he  drove  with  the  other,  at- 
tempted to  pull  around  the  two  forms,  when  one  of  them  sprang  to 
life.  'Gordon  grasped  the  near  horse  by  the  bridle  and  a  gun  flashed 
in  the  moonlight.  Then  there  was  an  order_to  halt  or  meet  death. 
The  only  response  was  the  crack  of  the  driver's  weapon.  Just  at 
this  moment,  the  team  almost  jerked  Gordon  from  his  feet  This 
probably  saved  his^  life,  for  Red  had  shot  to  kill._  Gordon  now  fired 
three  shots  in  rapid  succession.  He  saw  the  driver  spring  into  the 
air  and  pitch  forward  between  the  horses.  Robert  now  showed  his 
hand.  He  jumped  from  the  vehicle,  leaving  Dorris  unconscious 
within.  Gathering  up  the  reins,  he  sprang  into  the  driver's  seat. 
There  was  the  crack  of  a  pistol  from  this  expert  marksman.  He 


254  WICKED   CITY. 

i 

had  shot  Gordon's  hand  from  the  bridle.  The  horses  went  tearing 
down  the  road,  carrying  the  limp  form  of  the  "weazle"  dangling 
over  the  pole  between  them  with  his  feet  caught  in  the  whipple- 
trees.  Gordon  could  not  bear  to  shoot  at  his  brother,  but  sent  a 
shot  after  the  team  which  only  seemed  to  increase  their  speed. 
Baffled!  It  seemed  that  fate  was  against  him.  What  could  he  do 
now?  It  was  a  lonely  stretch  of  road  without  a  habitation  of  any 
kind  in  sight.  His  last  hope  was  gone.  He  examined  his  hand. 
The  bullet  had  ploughed  a  furrow  a-cross  the  palm.  He  tried  to 
walk.  The  effort  caused  him  to  fall  from  weakness  and  pain.  As 
he  became  aware  of  the  fact  that  he  would  not  be  able  to  rescue 
her  from  the  awful  fate  she  was  being  carried  so  swiftly  to  and  he 
realized  that  his  last  hope  was  gone,  his  strength  went  with  it. 
The  team  had  dragged  him  some  distance  from  the  dead  animal 
so  he  now  dragged  himself  to  one  side  of  the  road,  where  he  lay 
sick  and  miserable.  But  new  strength  was  born  as  he  a  few  min- 
utes later  heard  the  faint  clatter  of  hoofs,  nearer  and  nearer,  louder 
and  louder.  It  was  music  to  his  ears,  for  this  held  out  another 
hope.  He  staggered  to  his  feet,  just  as  two  horsemen  came  in  view 
around  the  bend,  riding  at  full  speed,  with  their  heads  down — a 
black  man  and  a  white  man.  Could  it  be  ?  Yes,  thank  God !  It 
was  Henry  and  his  faithful  man,  Jarl.  Henry  seeing  the  dark  object 
lying  there  before  them  in  the  road,  remembered  the  header  he  had 
taken  only  a  short  time  before,  and  reined  in  before  the  other  who 
tore  on  by  the  dark  object  and  brought  his  perspiring  steed  to  a 
halt  near  Gordon,  who  made  his  presence  known  by  a  glad  shout 
as  he  staggered  towards  them. 

"Master?" 

"Yes,  my  faithful  fellow,  it  is  I.  Thank  God  you  are  here. 
Waste  no  time,  but  tell  me  which  one  of  the  horses  is  the  swiftest." 

"Henry's  seems  to  be." 

Hfenry  now  drew  up  and  greeted  Gordon  with  genuine  pleasure, 
for  he  had  expected  to  find  him  lying  along  the  road  a  corpse. 

"Henry,  which  horse  do  you  consider  is  the  swiftest  and  less 
winded?"  " 

"Well,  Massa  Gordon,  I  specs  as  mine  is,  and  if  yuh  wants  im' 
he  is  youahs  shuah  den  election." 

They  helped  him  onto  the  back  of  the  black  colt,  which  almost 
bounded  from  under  him  as  he  plied  his  heels  and  gave  him  the 
rein.  Although  a  bad  shot,  he  was  a  good  horseman,  and  was  soon 
leaving  Jarl  to  follow  in  the  rear,  while  he  in  turn  left  poor  Henry 
behind  and  he  widened  the  distance  between  him  and  the  dead  horse 
at  every  jump  as  he  bounded  along  until  his  superstitious  fear  left 
him.  Then  he  fell  into  a  dog  trot  which  soon  brought  him  in  sight 
of  a  house  set  far  back  from  the  road.  The  whole  family  were  at 
the  gate,  discussing  the  firing  they  had  heard  and  the  reckless  riders 
whom  they  saw  pass.  Henry  explained  matters  to  the  head  of  the 
family  and  asked  him  if  he  had  a  horse  he  could  spare. 

"Wai,  I  only  got  one,  and  he's  mighty  skittish.    Don't  know 


WICKED  CITY.  255 

as  you  could  handle  him.  Ain't  been  out  of  the  stable  for  nigh 
onto  a  week.  'Sides,  who  is  to  be  responsible  for  him?" 

"Mrs.  Waite,  my  old  Misses..  She'll  be  'sponsible  foah  'im,  an 
if  he  is  killed,  she'll  sure  give  ye  twice  wat  de  hoss  am  worf,  an 
here  is  ten  dollars  foah  de  use  ob  him." 

"No,  I  will  not  take  anything  for  the  use  of  him.  We  folks 
know  Miss  Dorris." 

"Yes,  pa,  and  she  is  an  angel.  Get  the  horse  quick,  for  she 
was  good  to  us  when  we  were  sick  and  needy." 

The  old  man  soon  appeared  with  the  animal.  Henry  had  some 
difficulty  in  mounting,  but  when  he  did  at  last  land  in  the  saddle, 
he  had  no  time  to  thank  them,  for  the  restless  animal  had  cleared 
the  green  strip  of  grass  that  skirted  the  road  and  was  tearing  down 
it  like  mad. 

"Well,  dis  am  my  third  hoss  t' -night.  I  wonder  if  I'se  got  ter 
give  dis  one  up,  too.  Well,  if  it  would  help  pooah  Missy,  I  would 
give  up  all  de  hosses  I  could  earn  in  all  my  life,  for  she  am  a  good 
lady  an  has  been  a  good  Missus  to  me.  I  hope  no  hahm  come  t' 
her!  Pooah  ole  Missus  wud  go  plum  crazy  shuah  if  dar  did.  I 
hopes  I'll  be  in  time  to  help  Massa  Gordon.  He  looks  like  a  bloody 
ghost.  God  A'mighty  if  he  aint  got  more  sand  dan  I  ever  thought 
he  had.  Golly,  but  can't  he  ride  a  horse  though !  He  sure  thinks 
a  heap  of  Miss  Dorris."  Thus  musing,  he  tore  along. 


How  is  it  faring  with  our  heroine?  She  was  lying  back  on  the 
cushions  still  in  an  unconscious  condition,  brought  about  by  Robert, 
who  had  first  chloroformed  her,  then  forced  between  her  pearly 
teeth  a  few  drops  of  the  "knock-out"  portion  he  had  secured  from 
"Butch"  in  London.  Robert  was  still  on  the  box  urging  the  fatigued 
horses  to  do  their  best.  The  "weazle"  he  had  pulled  up  on  the  seat 
beside  him.  He  had  only  been  stunned,  but  he  was  still  dazed  and 
unable  to  handle  the  reins. 

They  heard  the  clatter  of  the  horses  behind  them.  On  looking 
back  they  recognized  Gordon  who  was  riding  like  mad  toward 
them,  his  fresh  steed  gaining  rapidly  on  the  jaded  ones.  Red  swore 
and  said: 

"Say,  look  a  here  captin,  I'm  kind  o'  off  my  feed  t'-night,  an  it 
aint  no  'cinch'  dat  I  knows  wat  I'm  speilling  about.  But  aint  dat 
de  same  guy  a  comin  dere — de  one  wat  looked  jes  like  yuse  wid 
yer  war  paint  off?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  he  kin  win  my  coin  fer  he  is  a  sure  enough  'spook.'  I 
have  croaked  'im  twice  t'-night  already  an  made  cold  meat  o'  his 
hoss  twice,  a  hoss  wat  he  was  ridin  like  mad.  But  still  dere  he 
is  brought  back  t'  life  again.  Wat'll  I  do  wid  'im?  Ye  can't 
kill  'im !" 

"Weil,  don't  try  to  kill  the  rider  unless  you  have  to,  for  I  have 
a  worse  fate  in  store  for  him,  but  kill  the  horse  by  all  means." 


256  WICKED  CITY. 

"But  I  tells  yuse,  ye  can't  do  it.  He'll  bring  it  t'  life  again, 
sure.  He  must  have  some  way  o'  pumpin  wind  in  t'  de  brute." 

"Well,  you  drive  and  I  will  pump  the  wind  out  of  the  brute. 
He  is  no  'spook.' " 

At  this  moment  a  bullet  tore  up  the  dust  under  the  horses'  feet 
and  a  voice  cried  for  them  to  halt  or  the  next  one  should  find  a 
home  in  one  of  their  bodies.  The  answer  he  got  was  in  the  shape 
of  a  bullet  from  Robert's  pistol,  which  burned  its  way  clear  through 
his  poor  beast's  heart.  This  was  followed  by  another  and  an- 
other in  quick  succession.  The  handsome  animal  stopped,  trem- 
bled a  moment  and  died  before  it  reached  the  ground.  Gordon 
cleared  his  back  and  watched  the  beautiful  beast  sorrowfully  as  he 
waited  for  Jarl  to  come  up ;  but  when  he  did  arrive,  he  found  his 
master  unconscious  from  the  loss  of  blood.  Jarl  raised  his  head 
and  poured  some  liquor  from  a  flask  down  his  parched  throat.  On 
recovering  consciousness  he  tried  to  mount  Jarl's  horse,  but  was  too 
weak. 

"I  will  go,  master.  You  are  too  weak  to  sit  in  the  saddle.  You 
lie  here  an  rest  till  I  return  or  send  somebody." 

But  not  until  he  had  tried  to  mount  again  and  again  and  had 
slipped  off  into  the  dust  did  he  give  up  and  say,  "Very  well,  go. 
Save  her  if  you  can.  Bring  her  to  me  to-night  and  I  will  make  you 
master  of  a  fortune.  Do  you  hear?" 

"Yes,  I  hear,  master,  but  it  hurts  me  here  in  my  heart  t'  have 
ye  say  that.  Ye  know  I'd  give  up  my  life  fer  your  sake  alone." 

"I  know,  but  I  hardly  know  what  I  say.  Of  course  you  would. 
But  go,  and  send  me  news  soon.  The  suspense  is  worse  than  bullet 
wounds.  Go  save  her !" 

Gordon  fell  to  the  ground  from  weakness.  Placing  his  master 
in  a  comfortable  position,  Jarl  continued  the  chase  where  Gordon 
was  obliged  to  leave  off.  But  Jarl  had  been  gone  only  a  few 
moments  when  his  master  began  to  feel  stronger.  He  now  wanted 
to  be  in  action  again. 

"If  I  only  had  a  horse  I  believe  I  could  ride  now.  Hark! 
What  is  that?* 

He  soon  ^  saw  that  it  was  the  colored  man  mounted  on  a  fast 
horse.  The  rider  tried  to  pull  us  as  he  drew  near  the  dark  objects  in 
front  of  him.  The  horse  stopped  altogether  too  sudden,  and  the  sur- 
prised darkey  turned  a  complete  somersault  in  the  air,  landing  in  a 
sitting  posture  as  before,  his  legs  sprawled  wide  apart,  his  hand 
extended  to  Gordon  with  a  half  grin,  while  he  said,  "Shake,  Massa 
Gordon,  ye  aint  a  gwine  ter  lose  dis  chicken  as  long  as  dere  is  any 
horse  flesh  around  dese  heah  parts." 

"You  are  a  faithful  and  brave  fellow,  Henry,  but  you  must 
catch  your  steed  or  there  will  certainly  be  no  horse  flesh  around 
these  parts." 

He  easily  caught  the  animal,  for  it  would  not  desert  the  fallen 
one,  and  he  had  to  lead  him  down  the  road  out  of  the  sight  of  the 
dead  brute  before  he  could  get  Gordon  mounted  and  away  once 
more  on  his  perilous  journey.  Three  times  he  had  given  up  the 


WICKED   CITY.  257 

living  to  be  left  with  the  dead.  He  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  road 
for  a  moment  scratching  his  head,  while  he  looked  around  in  every 
direction  with  the  expression  of  a  martyr. 

"Well,  it  am  a  good  ting,  an  I  wuz  jus  a-tinking  as  how  I  wuz 
a-goin  ter  catch  up  wid  dem  debils  that's  got  poor  Miss  Dorris,  an 
cut  enough  sandwiches  off  on  em  ter  feed  all  de  coons  in  town,  an 
heh  I  is  wid  nothin  but  ma  legs.  But,  gol  durn  it,  I'll  jes  use  dem." 

And  off  he  started  on  a  run  to  follow  Gordon,  who  was  urging 
the  darkey's  horse  along  towards  the  red  glare  of  lights  from  the 
great  city  in  the  distance,  which  made  a  picturesque  spot  on  the 
sky._  On,  on,  Gordon  flew!  At  times  it  was  almost  impossible  to 
retain  his  seat  in  the  saddle.  He  was  dizzy  and  weak  and  unfit  to 
proceed,  but  he  realized  if  he  did  not  save  her  to-night,  to-morrow 
would  be  too  late  to  save  her  from  dishonor.  If  it  had  been  death 
he  was  trying  to  save  her  from,  he  could  not  have  exerted  himself 
more  than  he  was  now  doing  to  save  her  from  what  he  considered 
worse  than  death.  His  fresh  steed  soon  overtook  that  of  Jarl,  and 
master  and  man  rode  side  by  side.  They  began  to  pass  habitations. 
The  lights  still  gleamed  from  some.  They  were  fast  nearing  the 
city.  Many  people  ran  to  the  door  or  gate  to  look  after  the  flying 
horsemen.  Gordon's  saddle  girth  broke  and  they  were  obliged  to 
halt.  It  was  only  a  short  time  before  they  were  again  on  their  way, 
but  had  proceeded  only  a  short  distance  when  they  heard  a  commo- 
tion behind  them.  It  was  the  plucky  darkey.  Astride  of  a  long 
limbed,  clean  cut  animal  which  looked  a  "lakeside  favorite,"  he 
passed  them  with  a  shout  and  took  the  lead  for  some  distance,  but 
this  burst  of  speed  soon  gave  out  and  he  was  forced  to  fall  back 
with  the  others.  Gordon's  horse  now  shot  ahead  and  kept  the  lead. 
The  houses  were  becoming  thicker  and  thicker.  They  also  once  in 
a  while  passed  a  late  pedestrian  who  stopped  and  stared  after  them 
in  astonishment  as  they  dashed  by  and  clattered  out  of  sight.  Gor- 
don's heart  beat  high  with  hope  as  after  a  few  moments  more  of 
hard  riding  they  came  in  sight  of  the  vehicle  which  contained  a 
treasure  dearer  than  his  life  itself,  and  he  was  determined  to  save 
her,  even  at  the  price  of  it. 

The  chase  was  now  soon  over.  As  they  drew  near,  the  hack 
stopped  and  the  tired  beasts  for  the  first  time  had  a  short  rest.  As 
Gordon  and  his  men  drew  near,  they  noticed  that  the  abductors 
had  drawn  their  horses  across  the  road,  completely  blocking  it, 
while  they  stood  near  them  with  drawn  revolvers  and  the  uncon- 
scious form  of  Dorris  between  them  and  their  pursuers.  She 
served  as  a  protection  for  them  as  well  as  the  team.  The  scheme 
worked  well,  for  when^  the  first  fusillade  of  shots  was  over,  the 
carriage  was  riddled  with  bullets  while  the  team,  driver  and  late 
occupants  were  unharmed.  Red  had  recognized  his  old  enemy,  Jarl, 
and  he  shot  to  kill.  The  faithful  fellow  tumbled  in  the  dust,  while 
his  horse  turned  and  clattered  back  along  the  road  they  came  by. 
The  darkey's  horse  was  now  shot  from  under  him.  He  landed  on 
his  feet  with  the  agility  of  a  cat  and  started  on  a  run  at  them,  but 
he,  poor  fellow,  bit  the  dust  before  he  had  taken  a  dozen  steps. 


258  WICKED   CITY. 

Gordon  urged  his  horse  -forward,  and  was  now  almost  upon  them. 
He  bent  forward  and  was  taking  careful  aim  at  Red,  when  his  gun 
was  shot  from  his  grasp  (as  it  had  the  night  on  the  lake  front.) 
Then  shot  after  shot  was  poured  into  the  breast  of  his  steed,  which 
lurched  forward,  almost  trampling  on  its  slayers.  Gordon  was 
again  pinned  down  by  the  dead.  Red  ran  up  and  relieved  him  of 
his  other  pistol  and  would  have  rapped  him  on  the  head  with  it  if 
Robert  had  not  interfered. 

"No,  let  him  live,  his  life  belongs  to  me._  I  want  him  to  hear 
the  jester's  bells.  Do  you  hear  them  jingling,  my  virtuous 
brother?" 

"Robert,  have  pity  on  her!  For  the  love  of  God,  send  her 
back  to  her  mother !" 

"No,  I  will  not  send  her  back  for  the  love  of  God,  but  instead 
I  will  take  her  for  the  love  of  her.  Look,  my  dear  brother!  Do 
you  not  think  I  love  her?  Watch  me  as  I  press  a  kiss  upon  her 
sweet  lips." 

He  pressed  his  lips  to  those  of  Dorris,  who  was  still  uncon- 
scious «nd  was  supported  by  his  arm. 

Gordon  tried  to  free  himself,  but  in  vain. 

"O,  you  fiend!  and  to  think  that  we  are  of  the  same  father!" 

Robert  sneered  in  reply. 

"Yes,  and  it  is  a  pity  we  could  not  have  been  of  the  same 
mother." 

Paying  no  attention  to  this  taunt,  Gordon  inquired,  "You  fiend, 
what  do  you  intend  to  do  with  Dorris?" 

"You  remember  what  I  told  you  about  its  being  my  turn  next? 
Well,  my  turn  has  come,  and  I  am  going  to  make  the  most  of  it 
and  enjoy  all  the  favors  this  beautiful  dream  of  innocence  has  to 
give.  As  my  wife,  she  shall  grace  an  American  home,  not  an  Eng- 
lish one." 

"Better  that  she  should  grace  her  coffin !" 

"Well,  you  shall  never  see  her  again,  so  we  will  not  stop  to 
argue  the  question.  Here,  number  "2,"  mount  that  box  and  drive 
like  the  devil  was  after  you !" 

Red  mounted  the  box,  while  Robert  replaced  the  girl's  uncon- 
scious form  upon  the  cushions  in  the  vehicle.  Gordon  made  a  des- 
perate struggle  to  release  his  limb,  but  of  no  avail,  he  was  pinned 
fast. 

"No,  no,  Robert,"  he  cried  out.  "You  don't  mean  what  you 
say?  You  can't  mean  anything  so  horrible  as  you  propose!" 

"You  still  think  I  am  jesting,  do  you?  You  don't  hear  any 
jester's  bells  jingling,  do  you?" 

"Robert,  mock  me  if  you  will ;  but  for  the  love  of  God  have  pity 
on  that  innocent  child!" 

"Have  pity,  you  say?  But  that  is  an  article  I  am  just  out  of. 
Ta-ta,  my  Christian  brother,  ta-ta,  I  will  have  to  leave  you  now 
for  a  short  honeymoon.  Meantime,  you  can  tell  your  troubles  to 
the  horse.  It  is  a  horse  on  you  this  time!  Ah-ha-ha-ha !" 

Gordon  groaned. 


WICKED  CITY.  259 

"Hurry  up  wid  yer  roast,  fer  dere's  a  lot  o'  people  rubberin 
down  dis  way,"  Red  broke  in. 

_"Well,  good-bye,  brother.  I  see  there  are  a  lot  of  bluecoats 
coming  down  the  hill,  so  I  will  leave  you.  You  can  tell  you  trou- 
bles to  them  when  they  come  up." 

"Robert,  have  pity!     Don't  ruin — " 

The  slamming  of  the  carriage  door  drowned  this  last  appeal. 

"O  God !     How  can  such  a  wrong  be  permitted !"  he  moaned. 

The  carriage  soon  disappeared  and  with  it  his  last  hope  of  sav- 
ing his  love  from  the  fate  in  store  for  her. 

Some  mounted  police  soon  came  galloping  up  and  curious  peo- 
ple gathered  from  all  directions.  In  a  weak  voice  he  explained 
matters.  Some  went  in  pursuit,  while  others  cared  for  the  wounded 
men,  taking  them  to  the  nearest  house  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away. 
The  doctor  was  soon  on  hand.  The  darkey  was  wounded  in  three 
places.  Jarl  was  shot  only  in  the  shoulder,  and  was  soon  clamor- 
ing to  join  his  master  who  was  preparing  to  depart;  but  the  doctor 
made  him  lie  quiet  while  he  extracted  a  bullet  and  dressed  the 
wound.  He  also  advised  Gordon  to  rest  awhile,  but  it  was  useless 
to  argue  the  question  with  him.  Washing  the  blood  from  his  per- 
son, then  borrowing  a  hat  and  a  horse,  he  set  out  in  the  wake  of  the 
bluecoats  whom  he  met  returning.  They  had  lost  track  of  the  bold 
abductors  who  had  too  much  of  a  start.  He  was  so  impatient  to  be 
off  in  pursuit  that  he  hardly  waited  to  hear  the  last  words  of  expla- 
nation of  the  officers.  He  sped  on  to  the  city  of  wicked  ways  but 
of  no  use.  There  were  many  streets  leading  off  the  one  they  were 
on,  any  one  of  which  they  might  have  taken.  He  got  rid  of  his  horse 
and  haunted  the  downtown  districts  all  night  He  called  at  the  hotel 
only  to  find  that  his  brother  had  left,  they  did  not  know  where.  All 
day  he  hunted,  but  no  trace  of  them  could  be  found.  Mrs.  Waite 
was  almost  frantic  with  grief  and  Gordon's  heart  lay  like  a  lump 
of  lead  in  his  bruised  breast. 

Meantime,  poor.  Dorris  was  lying  bereft  of  her  wedding  finery 
upon  the  lace-bedecked  bed  in  the  padded  chamber  of  the  under- 
ground den,  while  Kit  cared  for  her  and  watched  her  in  admiration 
and  wonder  at  the  great  beauty  she  saw  there.  She  was  sleeping 
under  the  effects  of  the  drug  like  a  tired  child.  What  would  the 
awakening  be? 


MERCHANT  ROBBED  AND  MURDERED. 

Number  "3"  and  number  "4,"  according  to  the  captain's  orders, 
presented  themselves  at  West  Madison  and  Center  streets  at  8 
o'clock.  They  had  stopped  on  the  way  over  at  Roger's  place,  a 
well-known  sporting  resort,  and  here  they  indulged  in  a  few  rounds 
of  drinks  to  clear  their  heads  and  stimulate  their  nerves,  for,  as  they 
said  to  one  another,  "We  want  to  do  a  smooth  job  and  show  de 
captin  dat  we  can  line  em  up  an  cop  de  dirty  stuff  jest  as  slick  as 
de  next  un.  We'll  show  'im  dat  we  are  strictly  in  it.  He  said  as 


260  WICKED   CITY. 

he  wants  t'  see  our  gait.  We'll  show  'im  a  gait  dat  he  can't  keep 
up  wid,  ef  it  comes  t'  a  showdown?"  So  they  discussed  the  pro- 
posed robbery  in  a  low  tone  over  their  drinks.  It  was  now  ten  min- 
utes after  the  hour  set  when  they  were  to  meet  the  "spook,"  the 
"weazel"  and  the  captain,  but  of  course  neither  appeared.  They 
waited  patiently  for  fully  a  half  hour,  still  no  one  appeared. 

"Say,  number  tree,  I  tink  we  are  jest  being  stuck  up,  dey  have 
jest  made  er  monkey  of  us." 

"I  begin  t'  tink  so  meself.  D'y  know  wat  I  tink?  Well,  I'm 
tinkin  dem  guys  have  been  troin  de  con  into  us." 

"Well,  dat's  Wat  I  tink,  too,  an  we're  a  couple  o'  birds  t'  let 
em  trow  de  con  into  us  like  dat.  I  tink  de  'weazle'  is  getting 
swelled  on  himself.  We'd  better  go  an  hold  up  a  cooper  shop  an 
take  some  hoops  home  t'  'im.  I'll  tell  you  one  ting,  an  dat  aint 
two,  ef  we  had  some  one  on  de  outside  to  stall  off  de  cops  an  keep 
our  git-a-way  clear,  we'd  take  someting  else  besides  hoops  home  t' 
show  em." 

"Wat  d'y  mean?" 

"Wy  go  an  hold  de  store  up  jest  de  same  and  show  dem  guys 
dat  dey  aint  in  it  wid  de  colts." 

"Yes,  it'd  be  a  good  scheme." 

"Well,  I  guess  dey  have  kind  o'  fixed  it  fer  us  t'-night.  We 
can't  turn  a  wheel ;  but  say,  ef  dey  aint  de  'long  and  short'  guys, 
who  in  de  world  are  dey?" 

"Well,  I  can't  tink  of  anybody  unless  it  might  be  Clarence 
White.  Ye  know  we  heard  some  talk  down  de  line  about  it  an  dey 
seemed  t'  tink  as  it  wuz  him  an  some  odder  guy  wat  does  de  stall 
act  while  dey  as  de  'long  an  short'  go  in  an  stick  em  up  an  cop 
tie  coin." 

"Well,  I  tink  dem  guys  wat  were  speelin  dis  kind  o'  talk  t'  us 
were  off  dere  base,  for  I  know_  Clarence  White  Better  dan  any  o' 
dem  shoestrings  an  I  know  he  aint  out  fer  dat  kind  o'  graft.  He's 
got  nerve  enough  all  right,  but  I  happen  t'  know  dat  he's  been 
pullin  an  honest  oar  ever  since  dem  'Jimmy  Milkweeds'  croaked  his 
brother.  Yes,  an  wat's  more,  he'll  keep  on  pullin  de  same  oar  ef  de 
West  Side  elbows'll  let  'im.  But  dey  have  got  it  in  fur  'im  an  dey 
pinch  'im  every  timethe  bats  his  eye  on  de  street." 

"Well,  an  dat's  jest  wat  makes  me  tink  it's  'im.  He  probably 
tinks  ef  he  is  goin  t'  have  de  name  he  might  as  well  have  de  game." 

"Oh,  yer  crazy!  Where  have  ye  been  smokin,  anyway?  Wat 
time  is  it?" 

"Eight-thirty-five." 

"Well,  we'll  wait  five  minutes  longer  an  ef  dem  guys  don't 
show  up,  we'll  blow  back  to  de  den  an  take  de  roast  we  got  comin." 

"No,  we'll  jest  fool  em.  We'll  show  em  dat  dey  didn't  steer 
us  on  a  dead  un  after  all,  fer  here  comes  de  kids,  Dene  and  Mire." 

The  four  worthies  met  and,  after  talking  a  few  moments,  num- 
ber ''3"  and  number  _  "4"  looked  up  and  down  the  street.  Seeing 
nothing  of  the  captain  or  Red,  they  crossed  over.  After  walking 
a  couple  of  times  by  the  merchant's  store  they  had  intended  to  hold 


WICKED  CITY.  261 

up  they  stopped  near  by  and  waited.  As  they  stood  there  looking  at 
one  another  in  a  sort  of  uncertain,  undecided  way,  a  bicyclist,  wear- 
ing a  red  sweater,  rode  up.  Dismounting  on  the  walk,  he  looked 
up  and  down  and  then  at  his  wheel.  Approaching  number  "3"  and 
number  "4,"  he  asked  them  if  they  would  keep  an  eye  on  it  while 
he  stepped  inside. 

"Sure  ting,  we'll  keep  our  lamps  on  it,  an  while  yer  in  dere, 
jest  ask  em  wat  time  dey  close.  We  are  waitin  fer  a  gal  wat  works 
in  dere." 

"All  right,  I  will  find  out  for  you." 

The  bicyclist  passed  into  the  store  and  soon  returned  with  a 
small  package  in  his  hand.  He  was  a  man  of  middle  age  and  appar- 
ently of  means.  Before  he  mounted  his  wheel  he  thanked  them  and 
informed  them  that  the  closing  time  was  9  o'clock.  Haiading  them 
a  cigar  apiece,  he  rode  away.  Number  "3"  and  number  "4"  waited 
a  few  moments  more  for  their  confederates  in  crime  while  they 
talked  in  a  low  tone.  It  was  now  8 :  50.  They  waited  no  longer. 

"Come  on,  number  tree,  we'll  take  a  chance  anyway.  I  aint 
goin  back  dere  t'  get  de  laugh." 

Number  "3"  hesitated  a  moment  and  said: 

"D'  ye  tink  dem  guys  we  got  framed  up  here  on  de  outside  '11 
stand  de  clip  an  not  get  rattled?" 

"Sure  ting,  come  on." 

Number  "3"  then  followed  his  pal.  As  to  what  followed  this, 
we  will  refer  the  reader  to  the  following  headlines  taken  from 
the  daily  papers.  As  this  narrative  is  founded  mostly  on  facts, 
it  seems  only  proper  that  we  should  refer  to  some  of  the 
facts  in  this  way.  Back  numbers  of  all  Chicago  newspapers  will 
corroborate  many  assertions  made  in  this  tale  of  the  notorious 
"long  and  short"  bandits  during  the  great  carnival  of  crime  which 
held  Chicago  in  a  grip  of  terror. 

KILLED  BY  BANDITS. 
Thomas  J.  Marshall,  a  merchant,  is  fatally  shot ! 

TWO   OTHERS   INJURED. 

Perpetrators  of  the  shocking  crime  make  their 
escape  on  West  Madison  Street,  etc. 

WORK  OF  "LONG  AND  SHORT"  BANDITS. 

THEIR   209th  RAID  ON   MERCHANTS  ! 

Then  followed  columns  of  matter  pertaining  to  this  last  Hold- 
up and  the  many  others  supposedly  by  the  notorious  bandits,  whose 
operations  helped  Chicago  to  earn  the  name  of  "Wicked  City" 
throughout  the  entire  world. 


262  WICKED  CITY. 

DORRIS  A  PRISONER  IN  THE  UNDERGROUND  DEN. 
THE  "LONG  AND  SHORT"  MAN. 

At  midnight  number  "3"  and  number  "4"  came  creeping  into 
the  den  with  white  faces  and  a  look  in  them  that  had  never  been 
there  before.  They  found  Kit  dressing  the  bullet  wound  in  the 
"weazle's"  scalp,  their  captain  was  leaning  back  in  a  lazy  chair, 
brought  from  above  by  Kit.  As  the  new-comers  entered,  he  looked 
at  them  sharply  and  said : 

"You  fellows  haven't  been  out  'hitting  the  pipe'  have  you?" 

"No,  we  went  where  you  told  us  to — " 

"Ah,  yes,  I  had  forgotten  for  the  moment.  Sorry,  boys,  that 
we  had  to  spoil  your  fun  to-night,  but  number  "2"  and  number 
"1"  got  mixed  up  before  we  got  there  and  had  to  call  it  off,  but  we 
will  play  a  date  over  there  to-morrow  and  you  are  in  it." 

They  did  not  for  some  reason  seem  very  much  elated  at  this 
prospect.  Robert  noticed  it  and  also  the  white  faces. 

"Say,  number  "2,"  now  honest,  I  think  you  colts  are  up  against 
the  pipe." 

"Oh,  dat's  nothin.  Dey  sneak  around  on  Clark  street  and  take 
a  long  draw  once  in  a  while,  only  dey — " 

"Oh,  wat  ye  stuff  in  de  captin  like  dat  for,"  they  interrupted, 
"yuse  know  we  don't  hit  de  'dope'  but  we  do  hit  de  'boose'  once 
in  a  while.  Where's  de  bottle?" 

"On  de  table,  help  yerself." 

"We'll  jest  take  a  drink  an  hit  de  bunk  for  we  are  about 
blowed.  But  say,  old  pal,  whose  been  tryin  t'  clip  yer  hair  wid 
a  singer?" 

"Dat  aint  no  hair-cut.    Ye  see  an  Injin  tried  t'  scalp  me." 

"Wat  ye  givin  us?     Wat  Injin?" 

Red  replied  with  a  grin,  "Ye  two  fellers  knows  de  sign  dat 
stands  in  front  o'  de  cigar  store  at " 

"Oh,  stow  it,  yer  tryin  to  kid  somebody  now.  I  tink  ye  been 
up  against  de  'dope'  yerself,  an  up  against  it  pretty  strong,  too. 
Well,  good-night,  captin,  we're  goin  to  pound  our  ear  an  dream 
out  a  few  'policy  numbers'." 

They  slept,  and  their  slumber,  true  enough,  was  disturbed  by 
dreams,  but  not  by  policy  numbers.  Instead  it  was  of  blood — rivers 
of  it.  These  dreams  were  so  vivid  that  they  woke  up  at  intervals 
cursing  themselves  for  disobeying  the  captain. 

One  said  to  the  other:  "Wat  did  ye  take  them  Kid  guys 
we  met  in  with  us  for?  Ye  might  have  knowd  as  dey  would  get 
rattled  and  turn  dere  guns  loose  when  dere  was  no  need  of  it. 
Well,  I'm  glad  it  want  us  wat  did  it." 

The  others  retired.  Robert,  the  arch  fiend,  locked  the  door 
that  led  to  the  padded  chamber  and  innocence  beyond.  It  was  late 
the  following  day  when  Dorris  came  to  and  looked  around  her, 
wondering  where  she  was,  and  wondering  at  the  strange  feeling 
which  possessed  her.  She  lay  trying  to  corral  her  scattered  senses 


WICKED  CITY.  263 

when  the  door  opened  and  Kit  appeared.  The  woman  had  her 
instructions  from  Robert  and  followed  them. 

"Ah,  good  morning,  Mrs.  Long,  your  husband  has  gone  away 
to  look  after  some  matters  concerning  yourself  and  his  brother 
and  he  left  instructions  that  you  should  lie  perfectly  quiet  until 
his  return.  Yon  have  been  very  sick." 

In  a  confused  way  she  inquired,  "My  husband — you  mean — ?" 

"Mr.  Gordon  Long." 

She  sighed  and  a  look  of  relief  came  .  over  her  face.  She 
asked  many  questions,  but  the  only  reply  to  them  was : 

"You  wait  until  your  husband  comes.     He  will  explain  all." 

And  with  this  she  had  to  be  satisfied,  but  she  could  jiot  un- 
derstand it.  Where  was  her  darling  mother,  and  why  was  she 
in  this  peculiar  looking  room.  As  her  gaze  wandered  around  it, 
she  noticed  that  there  were  many  handsome  paintings,  mostly 
nude  art.  They  seemed  to  suggest  something,  for  with  a  blush 
she  now  asked  another  question  in  a  hesitating  way. 

"A — nd,  Gordon,  my  husband,  was  he —  here —  last —  evening?" 

"Oh,  yes,  to  be  sure ;  and  left  you  in  my  care.  Providing 
he  does  not  return  to-night  and  you  become  lonesome,  I  will  drop 
in  and  sit  with  you,  if  you  wish,"  Kit  said  in  a  kindly  tone  of  voice. 

"You  seem  to  be  kind,  and  it  would  please  me  very  much  to 
have  you.  Some  way,  I'm  afraid,  of  what  I  don't  know,  but  things 
seem  hardly  as  they  should  be.  There  are  so  many  things  I  don't 
understand.  My  head  is  confused,  and  I  feel  strange,  but  surely 
it  must  be  all  right  as  long  as  I  am  with  my  husband.  Still  there 

"There  now,  Mrs.  Long,"  Kit  interrupted,  "don't  worry  or  talk 
too  much.  Try  and  content  yourself  till  he  comes.  There  are 
many  things  I  do  not  understand  myself,  but  he  will  doubtless 
explain  when  he  arrives.  You  have  a  very  good  husband.  He 
certainly  will  let  no  harm  befall  you." 

This  peculiar  woman  really  pitied  her,  but  she  was  the  slave 
to  Robert's  will,  bound  with  fetters  too  tightly  welded  to  be  torn 
asunder.  She  felt  that  she  must  obey  him.  There  was  no  ques- 
tion in  her  mind  of  doing  otherwise.  If  she  had  been  as  faithful 
to  herself  as  to  this  man,  who  cared  naught  for  her,  she  would 
have  been  a  truly  good  woman. 

Dorris,  uneasy,  but  forced  to  be  content,  managed  to  pass  the 
day.  The  last  thing  she  saw  at  night  when  she  dropped  off  into 
a  troubled  sleep  was  Kit,  who  was  removing  the  tea  tray.  _  Little 
did  she  dream  that  in  the  dregs  at  the  bottom  of  this  gold-trimmed 
cup  were  the  remnants  of  what  caused  this  sudden  sleepiness  and 
subsequent  complete  unconsciousness.  This  was  a  scene  enacted 
many  times,  followed  later  by  the  entrance  of  Robert,  who  gazed 
down  on  her  loveliness,  taking  in  every  detail  of  the  perfect  form 
with  his  passion-inflamed  eyes,  before  starting  out  on  his  nightly 
raids. 

Once  he  muttered,  "My  revenge  would  be  almost  complete  if 
I  had  Gordon  in  that  rat  pit  where  he  could  witness  my  triumph. 


364  WICKED  CITY. 

It  seemed  he  held  the  winning  cards  and  was  playing  them 
with  great  satisfaction  while  the  devil  coached  him  on,  down 
the  ladder  a  moral  degenerate  descends,  even  to  the  last  round, 
knee-deep  in  corruption  and  sin,  a  depth  of  corruption  and  sin  from 
which  there  is  no  escape. 

During  the  days  that  followed,  Dorris,  although  strong  and 
healthy,  felt  a  languor  and  stupor  she  could  not  explain  or  shake 
off.  On  the  third  day,  as  Gordon  did  not  appear,  she  became  de- 
termined to  leave  this  place  and  return  home  to  her  mother.  She 
was  satisfied  that  something  was  wrong,  and  not  as  it  should  be, 
but  what?  She  would  see.  She  expressed  her  intentions  to  Kit, 
who  at  once  informed  Robert.  He  coolly  told  her  to  inform  Dor- 
ris of  the  truth,  that  she  was  a  prisoner.  This  she  did,  but  her 
heart  smote  her  as  she  saw  the  look  on  that  innocent  face. 

"My  husband,  where  is  he?"  she  cried. 

Kit  looked  at  her  pityingly  as  she  forced  the  lie  from  her  lips. 
"He  was  here  with  you  the  first  day,  then  he  left,  as  I  told  you. 
When  he  returned  yesterday,  you  were  asleep  and  he  gave  me 
orders  to  keep  you  a  prisoner,  if  necessary  until  he  returned  again." 

"And  when  vyill  that  be?" 

Kit  was  trying  to  make  the  blow  as  light  as  possible,  so 
replied,  "My  poor  girl,  I  hope  soon,  but  he  did  not  say.  He  only 
told  me  to  keep  you  a  prisoner  until  his  return  and  by  all  means 
allow  no  one  to  see  you.  I  think  he  was  afraid  somebody  was 
going  to  try  to  abduct  you.  He  certainly  loves  you.  Try  to  be 
content,  it  may  not  be  long." 

But  many  days  passed  in  the  same  manner  as  the  three  former 
ones,  and  there  was  not  a  day  but  that  she  prayed  to  her  keeper 
to  release  her.  She  even  tried  to  bribe  Kit  by  offering  a  large 
sum  which  she  could  easily  procure,  once  released.  But  Kit  was 
obdurate.  She  was  faithful  to  her  master  and  would  not  betray 
his  trust  by  depriving  him  of  a  pleasure  she  could  not  replace. 
When  Dorris'  jailer  was  out  of  the  room,  she  spent  her  time  ex- 
amining the  padded  walls  for  some  means  of  escape,  from  what, 
she  knew  not,  but  it  was  useless.  She  would  fall  on  her  knees 
to  pray.  Many  times  Kit  found  her  thus  occupied,  and  then  would 
look  pityingly  at  her  pretty  fingers,  the  nails  all  torn  and  bleeding. 
tearing  at  the  padded  walls.  So  grew  to  love  her  charge,  and  many 
times  this  fallen  woma^  would  press  a  kiss  on  the  sleeping 
girl's  grieved  lips,  which  a  thoughtful  and  far-away  look 
on  her  not  unpleasant  face.  Doubtless  she  thought  of  the 
day  when  she  was  a  country  lass,  as  pure  in  thought  as 
her  beautiful  charge.  She  could  almost  sniff  the  air  from 
the  green  fields  and  see  the  poor  old  father  and  mother, 
the  tears  streaming  down  their  honest,  weather-stained  faces  as 
they  bid  her  good-bye  and  wished  her  God-soeed  on  her  way 
to  the  great  city  to  find  honest  employment.  This  failed  and  like 
thousands  of  others,  she  fell,  then  became  what  she  now  is — a 
female  outlaw,  and  one  of  the  boldest  confidence  women  in  the 
United  States.  But  this  life  was  beginning  to  become  distasteful 


WICKED  CITY.  266 

to  her.  Many  times  a  far-away  look  could  be  seen  in  her  beautiful 
eyes,  and  she  often  wondered  how  the  old  folks  were  at  home. 
She  mentally  determined  to  some  day  lay  aside  her  finery  and, 
clothed  in  plain,  but  neat,  garb  make  their  old  hearts  glad  by  a 
visit.  A  strange  character  indeed,  but  compared  with  the  character 
of  Robert,  it  could  not  be  termed  so. 


THE  WICKED  CITY  IN  THE  GRIP  OF  BANDITS. 

A  month  passed.  Gordon  was  still  working  night  and  day  in 
his  endeavors  to  find  some  trace  of  Dorris,  but  in  vain.  She  had 
disappeared  as  completely  as  though  the  earth  had  swallowed  her 
up.  Detectives  Arlex  and  Rometto  were  working  faithfully  on  the 
case,  but  every  clew  they  unearthed  and  followed  led  to  no  practi- 
cal results  as  yet.  One  thing  they  were  positive  of,  she  was  still 
in  the  city,  and  upon  the  strength  of  this  supposition  Gordon,  who 
placed  a  great  deal  of  confidence  in  their  opinion,  haunted  the 
business  centers  and  levee  districts,  looking  into  every  face  but 
not  a  glimpse  of  Robert  or  Red.  Sometimes,  he  was  accompanied 
by  his  good  friend,  Louis  Palmello,  who  was  seemingly  surprised 
that  his  friend  Robert  had  turned  out  to  be  such  a  villian.  More 
often,  he  was  accompanied  by  his  faithful  man,  Jarl,  who  had  now 
completely  recovered  from  the  wound  in  his  shoulder.  He  was 
also  continually  on  the  lookout  for  his  old  enemy,  the  "bulldog," 
as  he  termed  him,  and  when  Jarl  was  not  with  Gordon,  he  could 
be  seen  with  his  old  bowery  chum  upon  the  levee,  "or  around  such 
districts  as  the  "red  light  district"  of  the  wicked  city,  their  eyes 
open  and  always  on  the  lookout  for  Robert  and  his  confederate,  or 
a  clue  that  would  lead  them  to  their  hiding  place. 

Gordon  often  visited  Mrs.  Waite  and  tried  to  cheer  her,  but  by 
nature  he  was  too  honest  to  throw  hope  into  his  voice  where  he  felt 
none.  He  always  left  the  broken  home  and  broken-hearted  woman 
(after  stopping  to  say  a  kind  word  to  Henry,  who  was  still  on 
the  sick  list  from  his  wounds)  with  a  promise  to  bring  her  news 
soon.  Oh,  what  misery  one  man  can  cause !  This  _  was  not 
the  only  home  that  he  had  wrecked.  In  a  direct  or  indirect  way, 
he  had  wrecked  hundreds  as  the  captain  of  the  "wits."  His  band 
was  now  composed  of  five  beside  himself,  and  he  ruled  them  with 
a  will  of  iron.  He  had  his  men  so  well  trained  that  they  operated  like 
clockwork.  Hardly  a  day  passed  that  some  of  them  did  not  gather 
around  the  table  in  their  underground  retreat  and  divide  the  spoils 
of  some  daring  raid.  He  seldom  took  more  than  one  man  besides 
Red ;  "3,"  "4,"  "5,"  or  "6"  were  taken  out  by  turns  to  "pipe"  on  the 
outside,  while  he  and  the/'weazle"  alone,  held  up  a  merchant's 
store.  Passing  near  the  "pipe"  on  their  way  out,  he  would  quickly 
inform  them  by  the  crooks'  deaf  and  dumb  language,  what  direc- 
tion to  take  in  making  their  "get-away,"  etc.,  etc.  After  some  of 
his  boldest  raids,  he  would,  as  Louis  Palmello,  return  to  the  spot 
where  the  robbery  took  place  and  mix  with  the  great  crowds  that 


266  WICKED   CITY. 

would  invariably  collect  after  the  "long  and  short"  men  had  paid 
a  visit.  In  this  way  he  became  acquainted  with  many  of  the  city 
officers  and  was  the  close  friend  of  some.  He  became  familiar 
with  the  workings  of  the  police  department.  In  fact,  became 
acquainted  with  almost  every  intention  and  move  of  this  great 
body  of  police,  (one  of  the  finest  in  the  world,  which  on  the 
account  of  their  inoffensive,  genteel-appearing  acquaintance,  was 
being  worked  to  death).  This  "robber  king,"  who  could  see  only 
the  humorous  side  of  the  affair,  would  sometimes,  five  minutes 
after  a  robbery  mix  with  the  officers  and  detectives  and  even  talk 
with  the  merchants  _  he  had  a  few  moments  before  held  up  and 
robbed,  while  they  listened  to  the  jingle  of  their  own  gold  in  his 
pockets.  Indeed,  with  all  its  seriousness,  it  did  have  a  comical 
side,  for  sometimes  he  would  be  enjoying  the  conversation  and 
cigar  of  some  city  official  at  headquarters  when  patrol  wagon  after 
patrol  wagon  would  drive  up,  dump  its  load  of  "long  and  short" 
suspects,  who  were  handcuffed  and  ushered  to  their  cells  through 
a  line  of  police  with  drawn  revolvers,  the  result  of  the  drag-net 
system.  He  would  chat  and  joke  and  listen  to  the  official's  theory, 
sometimes  expressed  in  a  positive  way  as  to  whom  the  "long  and 
short"  men  were,  while  hundreds  upon  hundreds  of  men,  gathered 
in  by  this  drag-net,  (many  innocent  of  any  crime)  were  lying  in 
the  many  different  jails,  or  stations  as  they  are  called,  abounding 
in  wicked  Chicago,  the  crime  center  of  the  world.  Over  a  thou- 
sand revolvers  of  all  descriptions  were  confiscated  from  almost 
as  many  "long  and  short"  suspects,  but  still  the  "long  and  short" 
men,  proper,  were  not  among  the  drag-net  victims,  or  the  blue 
magazine  guns  that  had  terrorized  a  whole  city  and  created  a  panic 
among  merchants,  were  not  among  the  confiscations  of  the  judge; 
nor  were  they  lying  at  the  city  hall  among  the  hundreds  in  charge 
of  the  custodians.  Instead  these  articles  (which  were  winning 
for  the  owner  fortune  and  a  reputation  for  boldness  that  reached 
the  most  remote  corners  of  the  earth)  were  reposing  in  the  leather- 
lined  pockets  of  the  well-dressed,  refined-looking  gentleman  stand- 
ing among  a  group  of  officials,  listening  with  Assumed  respect  and 
amused  interest  to  the  discussion  being  carried  on  among  them 
regarding  himself— the  bold  "long  man,"  his  bold  deeds  and  the 
possibility  of  his  capture. 

But  now  just  a  swift  glance  at  the  serious  side.  One  of  the 
many,  many  cases  which  the  innocent  were  doomed  to  suffer  for — 
crimes  which  the  "long"  man  was  responsible  for  in  an  indirect 
way,  was  that  of  Clarence  White,  the  brother  of  Frank  White,  who 
was  murdered  while  driving  along  the  street  in  his  carriage  and 
the  only  living  son  of  a  widowed  mother,  the  keeper  of  a  small 
store  on  the  West  Side.  He  was  arrested  and  charged  with  the 
Marshall  murder  and  was  still  lying  in  the  county  jail,  while  his 
poor  mother  was  almost  distracted.  This  terrible  misfortune,  fol- 
lowing so  soon  upon  the  loss  of  her  other  son,  was  fast  bringing 
the  poor  but  honest  woman  to  the  grave  with  a  broken  heart. 
Her  heart  was  wrapped  up  in  the  son  God  had  spared  to  her 


WICKED  CITY.  267 

from  the  shower  of  bullets  that  terrible  night  when  a  dozen  men 
sprang  from  the  roadside,  and  poured  shot  after  shot  into  the 
open  carriage.  He  was  at  that  time  a  young  man,  honest  of  pur- 
pose, but  if  dishonest  (as  some  claimed)  probably  dishonest  from 
a  force  of  circumstances,  and  for  this  reason  he  was  (although 
innocent  of  the  crime  charged)  lying  in  the  bowels  of  the  jail, 
awaiting  a  fate  that  seemed  inevitable,  a  fate  which  was  ten-fold 
worse  than  the  death  God  had  spared  him  from  for  his  mother's 
sake.  This  is  only  an  instance  of  many  cases  similar  among  the 
over-crowded  jails. 

So,  while  others  who  were  innocent  suffered  for  his  crimes, 
the  "robber  king"  smoked  and  chatted  with  the  officials,  shook 
hands  with  his  victims  (or  intended  victims)  and  raised  his  hat 
to  some  of  the  most  fashionable  ladies  of  Chicago's  society  as  he 
passed  them  in  his  handsome  turnout.  He  would  sometimes  make 
a  social  call  during  the  day  upon  an  invitation,  and  a  business 
call  at  night  ^yithout  an  invitation,  and  then  call  the  day  following 
to  condole  with  his  lovely  hostess  over  the  loss  of  her  splendid 
diamonds,  and  possibly  a  sum  of  money.  He  joined  several  clubs 
and  as  Louis  Palmello,  the  Spanish  gentleman  from  Cuba,  spent 
money  lavishly.  He  took  a  handsome  house  on  the  boulevard  and 
furnished  it  elegantly  and  tastefully.  Here  Gordon  was  often  a 
visitor. 

The  supposed  Louis  Palmello  dipped  deep  into  the  pleasures 
of  life  and  enjoyed  them  in  his  way,  claiming  that  a  short  life 
should  be  enjoyed  thus.  There  was  not  a  passion  or  a  desire  he 
did  not  indulge  in.  His  passion  for  Dorris  was  growing  stronger. 
This  passion  was  the  point  around  which  everything  else  connected 
with  his  life  gravitated.  While  she  was  under  the  influence  of  the 
drug  and  oblivious  of  his  or  Kit's  presence,  he  would  place  her 
lovely  form  in  graceful  poses,  then  watch  the  artistic  effect 
with  burning  eyes  and  heated  imagination.  For  long  periods  (after 
he  had  furnished  the  morning  papers  an  opportunity  to  chronicle 
another  bold  holdup  by  the  ""long  and  short"  men)  he  would  sit 
and  study  her  unconscious  face,  and  it  became  so  engraved  on  his 
memory  that  he  could,  while  absent  bring  her  lovely  inanimate 
figure  before  him  in  its  most  complete  outline,  at  his  will.  He  grew 
to  love  her  with  a  mad  and  most  unreasonable  love,  a  love  that 
was  slowly  consuming  all  other  feelings,  a  love  that  had  driven 
others  mad,  but  not  him.  Even  when  in  her  presence  and  under  the 
influence  of  her  personality  he  never  lost  control  of  himself,  for  he 
still  hoped  to  make  her  his  wife.  From  the  time  he  stepped  from 
that  padded  chamber,  made  sacred  by  her  presence  and  polluted  by 
his  unholy  love,  he  was  as,  the  "king  of  the  bandits,"  bold,  cool 
and  firm,  or  the  Cuba  gentleman  of  means,  suave  and  polite  and 
pleasing  in  manner,  but  cool,  observative  and  watchful, 


268  WICKED   CITY. 

ROMETTO  AND  ARLEX-DETECTIVES. 

Time  sped  apace,  the  days  passed  away  ushering  in  the  last 
month  bringing  no  hope  to  the  broken  homes  and  broken  hearts. 
Gordon  was  despondent,  the  detectives — well  we  will  look  in  upon 
them  as  they  are  taking  a  few  moments'  well-earned  rest  from  their 
ceaseless  efforts  during  the  great  epidemic  of  crime. 

In  a  comfortable  corner,  at  the  great  Auditorium,  sat  Arlex 
and  Rometto  discussing  the  robberies  by  the  "long  and  short"  men, 
when  the  well-known  and  familiar  cry  of  the  newsboys  reached 
their  ears,  causing  them  to  simultaneously  bound  to  their  feet. 

"Listen  Rometto,  is  that  not  an  extra?" 

These  two  stern  men  listened  with  every  sense  on  the  alert 
for  the  next  cry  that  finally  reached  their  ears  from  the  streets 
below. 

"Extra !    All  about  the  'long  and  short'  men !" 

Arlex  was  down  the  stairs  and  back  in  a  minute  with  a  copy, 
in  which  they  began  to  read  an  account  of  the  supposed  capture 
of  these  bandits  that  had  terrorized  Chicago  for  months  past.  As 
Arlex  finishing  reading  the  account  to  Rometto,  he  arose  and 
commenced  to  stride  across  the  heavy  carpet,  scuffing  and  digging 
his  heels  into  it  at  every  step,  while  he  watched  his  toes  in  disgust. 
Rometto  calmly  retained  his  seat  and  eyed  his  partner  who,  as  he 
passed,  muttered  something  about  being  just  a  little  behind. 

"What's  that  you  were  saying  Arlex?" 

"Oh,  nothing,  but  it  does  seem  provoking  after  all  our  hard 
work  night  and  day  after  those  other  fellows,  and  all  at  once  to 
find  that  we  were  on  a  false  scent." 

"Well,  that  is  no  reason  why  you  should  scuff  out  a  few  good 
cents'  worth  of  that  carpet." 

"Oh,  quit  your  kidding  and  tell  me,  Ro,  what  is  your  opinion 
regarding  this  capture  of  the  so-called  bandits?  Do  you  think 
that  we  have  been  on  a  'dead  one'  and  that  they  are  the  real  per- 
petrators of  the  Marshall  store  murder  and  the  long  list  of  store 
holdups,  or  do  you  still  think  by  any  possible  chance  the  theory 
we  have  been  working  on  regarding  the  swell  'cove'  and  his  pal  is 
still  to  be  considered  as  at  all  practical?" 

"Well,  Arl.,  I  will  tell  you  what  I  think,  and  I  will  stake  the 
reputation  we  have  made  for  ourselves  as  deteticves  on  it.  The 
swell  'cove'  and  his  pal  are  the  real  'long  and  short'  of  it  and 
if  we  can  get  our  'come  alongs'  on  them,  we  will_  have  fortune 
and  fame  in  our  grasp.  If  we  were  as  sure  of  getting  the  proper 
evidence  against  them  as  I  am  that  they  are  the  original  'long  and 
short'  men,  we  could  easily  afford  to  give  a  banquet  to  all  our 
brother  officers  on  the  strength  of  it." 

"You  still  think,  then,  that  our  original  theory  of  there  being 
three  classes  of  crooks  operating  in  Chicago  is  a  correct  one?" 

"Yes.  there  is  one  gang  which  is  individually  responsible  for 
the  Marshall  murder,  another  class  of  'cheap  door-mat  thieves', 
as  Pinkerton  expressed  it,  who  are  imitators  of  the  real  thing  in  the 


WICKED   CITY.  269 

business,  the  swell  'cove'  and  his  pal,  who  are  the  real  'long  and 
short'  men  are  responsible  for  the  boldest  of  the  many  crimes 
committed  here." 

"Well,  Ro.,  I  am  willing  to  believe  as  you  do,  in  fact,  am 
anxious  to  believe  there  is  still  a  chance  we  were  not  mistaken 
entirely  in  the  theories  we  worked  so  hard  on.  Something  seems 
to  tell  me  that  we  are  right,  and  still,  Ro.,  do  you  know,  some- 
how I  cannot  bring  myself  to  believe  that  this  Palmello  that  our 
suspicion  points  so  strongly  to,  is  a  bad  man  at  heart,  or  an  un- 
principled bandit.  I  am  believed  to  be  a  clever  man  at  reading  a 
face  or  penetrating  a  mask  of  the  most  expert  assumption  of  hon- 
esty, still  I  have  had  every  opportunity  to  study  him,  and  fail  to 
find  in  him  what  there  must  be  if  he  is  in  truth  the  'long'  man,  so 
I  must  be  losing  my  cleverness,  or  I  never  possessed  any  in  that 
direction.  Has  not  the  idea  ever  struck  you?" 

Yes,  it  has,  and  very  forcibly,  too.  If  we  were  to  jump  at 
conclusions  too  quickly  we  would  certainly  have  to  acknowledge 
ourselves  mistaken  and  beaten.  But  Arlex,  he  is  no  common  crim- 
inal, he  is  a  wonder  of  the  20th  century,  and  in  spite  of  the 
front  he  puts  on  is  one  of  the  cleverest  and  therefore  the  most 
dangerous  of  his  class." 

"Well,  if  he  is  our  man,  he  is  indeed  a  shrewd  one,  and  a  more 
intimate  acquaintance  with  him  may  sharpen  our  wit." 

"Our  wit  as  you  call  it,  is  pitted  against  his  wit,  his  ability 
to  evade  as  we  invade  the  very  recesses  of  his  soul,  and  lay  the 
life  so  well  known  in  his  heart,  wide  open  to  the  world  he  so 
cleverly  conceals  it  from.  Arlex,  my  friend,  I  have  taken  a  great 
interest  in  this  mysterious  Palmello  and  his  many  crimes.  I  have 
considered  it  our  star  case.  We  must  not  be  thwarted  and  thrown 
off  by  appearances.  I  believe  him  to  be  the  guilty  one  and  the  man 
that  visits  him  so  secretly  is  his  accomplice,  the  notorious  'short' 
man  of  the  newspaper  fame.  Palmello  has  the  long  end  of  the 
swag  and  I  think  if-  we  could  only  manage  to  get  into  that  place 
of  his  with  leisure  to  go  through  it,  we  would  in  all  probability 
find  evidence  enough  to  arrest  him  and  his  pal  at  once." 

"Of  course,  'I  respect  (as  I  am  satisfied  you  do  also)  the 
opinion  of.  our  brother  officer,  but  I  have  set  my  heart  on  the 
issue  of  this  ^case  and  not  being  satisfied  only  in  part  with  the 
round-up  of  it,  I  wish  to  follow  up  the  clews  we  already  have 
in  the  direction  we  speak  of.  Are  you  with  me  as  ever?" 

As  the  speaker  finished,  he  arose  to  his  feet  and  extended 
his  hand  to  Arlex  who  had  during  this  conversation  been  standing. 

"Am  I  with  you?  Rometto,  you  insult  the  friendship  we  bear 
each  other  by  asking  such  a  question  of  me.  Of  course,  I  am  with 
you.  It  certainly  is  hard  to  believe  he  is  the  villian  he  must  be 
if  our  theory  is  correct,  but  then  anything  seems  possible  now- 
days.  It  is  a  fast  age  and  a  fellow  has  to  get  a  hustle  on  him 
to  keep  up  with  it." 

As  he  spoke,  he  grasped  the  hand  of  good  fellowship  extended. 


270  WICKED  CITY. 

"Miracles  have  happened;  they  certainly  may  happen  again, 
and  if  we  prove  Palmello  a  villian,  he  certainly  must  have  two 
souls,  two  hearts,  and  two  dispositions,  operated  and  controlled  by 
one  mind,  in  fact  a  modern  Dr.  Jekyl  and  Mr.  Hyde,  even  to  the 
change  of  his  features  during  his  raids.  A  change  though  that  he 
seems  to  control  at  his  will,  regardless  of  time  or  place.  If  this 
is  so,  Ro.,  it  is  one  more  seeming  impossibility  added  to  the 
world's  museum  of  wonders,  as  to  being  with  you,  have  we  not 
been  like  Damon  and  Pythias,  working  day  and  night,  for  years 
shaving  the  dangers  incurred  following  the  vocation  of  detectives, 
have  we  not  equally  shared  success,  honor  or  dishonor — no  not 
dishonor,  Arl.  Not  that  we  have  shared  honors  together,  but  never 
dishonor.  Yes,  you  are  right  as  you  generally  are,  we  have  dis- 
honor yet  to  share  and  we  will  still  try  to  be  an  honor  to  the 
profession,  that  is  my  sentiment  exactly  and  we  will  live  up  to  it 
though  it  be  appreciated  or  not.  I  believe  as  you  do  in  being  a  man, 
nothing  else."  As  he  finished  speaking,  they  shook  hands  warmly, 
to  gaze  at  the  beautiful  time-piece  that  had  been  faithfully  ticking 
off  the  minutes  during  this  conversation.  Arlex  glanced  at  his 
watch,  a  good  solid  serviceable  affair,  saying: 

"That  mysterious  clock  which  came  so  strangely  into  our 
hands  is  certainly  a  most  marvelous  time-piece,  it  is  still  correct 
with  mine  to  the  fraction  of  a  second." 

"Mine,  also,  and  we  have  become  so  attached  to  it,  it  seems 
a  part  of  our  daily  lives,  in  fact  it  has  become  so  indispensible 
to  us  that  we  will  sorely  miss  it  when  the  mystery  surrounding  it 
is  cleared  up,  and  the  rightful  owner  claims  it." 

"Ro.,  I  believe  that  it  is  one  more  of  the  unsolved  mysteries 
added  to  the  list,  and  it  will  never  tick  off  the  hours  for  its  owner 
again." 

"Well,  maybe  not,  for  we  have  made  every  effort  to  find  the 
owner  and  have  failed  completely  so  far.  Yes,  I  am  inclined  to 
think  it  will  stay  in  our  indisputed  possession  forever,  and  I  am, 
sure  I  will  not  be  very  sorry,  for  I  do  not  think  there  is  another 
one  similar  to  it  in  the  world.  I  would  be  willing  to  believe  that 
also  if  it  were  not  for  a  figure  two  in  gold,  inlaid  with  jewels, 
set  firmly  in  the  onyx  the  body  of  the  clock  is  composed  of." 

"Yes,  very  true,  if  that  signifies  anything,  one  would  have 
grounds  to  believe  that  there  is  a  number  one  in  existence,  and 
possibly  a  number  three,  but  I  hardly  think  so,  for  no  manufac- 
turer makes  them,  most  of  the  work  is  done  by  hand,  and  a  very 
clever  hand,  too.  I  guess  we  will  have  to  shelve  this  case,  mystery 
and  all,  along  with  the  clock,  so  get  your  top  piece  and  let  us  go 
over  and  take  a  look  at  the  new  batch  of  "long  and  short"  suspects 
who  have  broken  into  jail."  So  speaking,  they  found  their  way  into 
the  busy  street.  As  they  walked  along,  their  eyes  although  heavy 
for  the  want  of  sleep,  were  as  ^clear  and  penetrating  as  ever,  taking 
in  every  face  as  it  sprang  into  view  along  its  course  piercing 
and  reading  it  without  seeming  to,  or  without  attracting  any 
more  attention  to  themselves  than  their  general  make  up  would 


WICKED   CITY.  271 

suggest  as  two  business  men,  walking  with  that  quick  elastic 
springy  step  that  so  characterizes  a  Chicago  man.  Still  many  an 
eye  was  cast  their  way,  mostly  from  the  weak  admiring,  while  they 
envied  them  for  the  strength  of  body  and  mind  they  saw  there. 
Fine  specimens  of  manhood  they  were  too ;  in  personal  appearance, 
there  was  a  striking  contrast — one  so  dark,  the  other  so  light 
although  they  were  both  true  Americans,  Rometto  (or  "Ro"  as  he 
is  called  by  his  friend,  Arlex,  who  in  return  is  called  "Arl,") 
one  could  almost  imagine  himself  in  Spain  or  poor  perse- 
cuted Cuba,  as  he  looked  at  his  features  so  foreign  in  ap- 
pearance. Spaniard  you  would  say,  with  his  almost  blue-black 
hair,  dark  eyes  and  jet  mustache  which  shaded  a  firm  set  mouth, 
not  at  all  unpleasant  as  he  smiled  and  showed  a  gleaming  set  of 
perfect  white  teeth.  While  his  companion  so  striking  in  contrast 
could  be  taken  for  a  Norseman  of  old,  with  his  flaxen  hair,  blonde 
mustache  and  heavy  eyebrows  overhanging  a  pair  of  eyes  that  were 
steel  gray  but  at  times  almost  blue.  The  foreign  appearance  of 
both  of  these  brave  men  and  their  ability  to  converse  in  many 
language  was  a  great  assistance  to  them  in  their  line  of  business. 
Passing  rapidly  along,  they  soon  reached  their  destination  where  a 
great  surprise  awaited  them. 

IN  THE  RAT  PIT. 

The  "long  and  short"  men  continued  to  hold  up  and  rob  at 
their  will,  but  this  kind  of  amusement  at  last  became  as  monoto- 
nous to  Robert  Long,  the  real  "long  man,"  as  it  had  become  inter- 
esting to  Red  and  the  colts,  and  terrorizing  to  the  city.  He  cast 
around  for  some  other  means  of  satisfying  his  diabolical  craving 
for  a  trade  of  crime  that  was  as  horrible  as  the  holdups  were 
bold  and  unique.  _  So  he  proceeded  to  carry  out  a  plan  that  had 
been  forming  in  his  head  for  some  time. 

Number  "49"  still  held  to  his  habit  of  muttering  to  himself. 
"Yes,  I  will  do  it.  Then  my  revenge  is  complete.  Yes,  he  shall 
witness  my  triumph  over  him  and  all  obstacles.  I  wonder  if  he 
will  hear  _the  jester's  bells !  Ah,  by  Jove !  that  puts  me  in  mind 
of  something  else.  He  shall  hear  them,  and  also  witness  my  triumph 
over  him.  Ah,  but  it  will  be  a  sweet  revenge !  Poor  fool !  He 
thinks  I,  as  Palmello,  invite  him  to  my  house  and  sit  talking  to 
him  for  •  hours  because  I  am  his  friend.  Yes,  I  am  his  friend, 
for  he  gives  me  pleasure,  the  pleasure  of  sitting  opposite  to  him 
while  I  watch  the  agony  on  his  face  and  the  lines  of  care  grow 
deeper  and  deeper  every  day.  It  is  a  very  good  pastime,  but  it 
grows  monotonous  like  all  the  rest.  So,  for  a  little  devia- 
tion from  the  general  programme,  I  will  put  him  where  his  hair 
will  grow  as  grey  as  the  rats  that  will  be  gnawing  at  his  shins, 
while  a  worse  feeling  will  gnaw  at  his  heart  strings  as  he  listens 
to  the  jester's  bells.  Ah,  I  must  have  a  little  amusement!  Then 
I  think  I  will  get  rid  of  him  altogether  and  take  my  sleeping 
beauty  to  her  new  home.  She  is  losing  her  roses  down  there." 


272  WICKED  CITY. 

That  evening,  Robert,  alias  number  "49,"  Louis  Palmello,  etc. 
accompanied  the  future  victim  of  his  cold-blooded  plans  about  the 
levee  in  his  ceaseless  and  seemingly  useless  search  for  poor  Dorris 
or  her  abductors.  Gordon's  eyes  were  heavy  for  want  of  sleep  and 
they  pained  him  severely  for  the  unnatural  strain  on  them,  caused 
by  trying  to  perform  an  impossibility,  which  was  to  look  into  every 
face  that  swept  by  on  a  Chicago  street.  The  great  strain  was  tell- 
ing on  him.  He  was  weary  and  sick  at  heart.  He  had  done 
everything  that  man  could  do,  even  to  run  a  continued  personal  or 
ad.  in  the  daily  papers,  offering  a  large  reward  for  information 
that  would  furnish  him  even  the  slightest  clue. 

Gordon's  good  friend,  Palmello,  (apparently  by  chance,  but  in 
reality  by  clever  design)  led  him  in  the  vicinity  of  the  old  church, 
after  visiting  numerous  places  upon  the  levee  and  the  red  light 
district  south  of  this  and  then  on  Custom  House  place,  where 
he  had  passed  within  a  few  feet  of  her  prison  in  company  with  her 
jailer.  They  visited  many  other  places  where  a  character  like 
Red  or  Robert  might  hold  out,  but  not  a  glimpse  of  either  rewarded 
his  persistency.  He  was  forced  to  avert  his  eyes  to  rest  them  a 
moment  from  the  awful  strain  of  trying  to  peer  into  every  face  as 
he  passed  with  his  companion  down  this  lonely  street  and  struck  the 
shadows  of  the  church.  For  this  reason,  his  naturally  active  eye 
failed  to  see  the  two  figure?:  lurking  there,  one  of  them  the  very 
man  he  was  looking  for.  He  was  struck  to  the  sidewalk,  bound, 
gagged  and  blindfolded. 


When  he  revived,  he  was  a  prisoner  in  the  rat  pit.  All  was 
dark  and  damp.  A  horde  of  sewer  rats  that  had  been  running 
over  and  around  him  and  nibbling  at  his  flesh  scampered  away  with 
squeaks  of  fright  as  he  stirred  and  tried  to  rise.  At  last,  when  he 
did  regain  his  feet,  a  chain  rattled.  He  took  a  step  forward  and  was 
almost  jerked  to  the  ground.  He  fell  against  a  wall  of  earth  and 
stone. 

"My  God!  I  am  a  prisoner,  and  chained!  Why  is  this,  and 
whose  work  is  \t?  Can  there  be  a  fiend  so  foul  as  to  chain  his 
fellow  creature  like  this  to  die  among  the  rats?" 

As  if  in  answer  to  his  thoughts,  a  heavy  door  opened,  letting 
in  a  flood  of  light.  It  blinded  him  for  a  moment,  but  only  a  mo- 
ment. Then  he  realized  that  there  was  such  a  fiend— and  that  fiend 
was  his  half  brother. 

"Robert!  you?" 

"Yes,  it  is  I,  dear  brother.  I  heard  the  jester's  bells  jingling, 
was  it  your  chain,  and  thought  I  would  look  in  and  see  if  you 
wish  anything." 

Gordon  pressed  his  hand  to  his  head  and  looked  at  his  brother 
in  astonishment  and  wonder,  as  he  replied,  "Yes,  I  do  wish  some- 
thing. I  wish  you  had  struck  me  dead  before  I  ever  became  aware 
of  your  awful  nature." 

"Is  there  anything  else  you  wish?" 


WICKED  CITY.  278 

"Yes,  there  is,  you  fiend !  Why  am  I  chained  here  in  this 
foul  hole,  and  what  have  you  done  with  poor  Dorris  ?" 

"Dear  brother,  from  the  way  you  speak,  I  am  afraid  you  do 
not  appreciate  my  generous  motives.  In  answer  to  your  first  ques- 
tion— the  rats  that  hold  sway  in  here  were  getting  lonesome  and 
hungry  so  I  thought  I  would  furnish  them  with  company  and  some- 
thing to  dine  upon." 

"You  fiend !" 

"There  now,  just  look  at  that  for  gratitude.  That's  the  best 
I  get  when  I  am  trying  to  be  a  good  fellow;  but  I  have  not 
finished,  and  when  I  have,  you  will  take  back  those  harsh  words 
and  bless  me,  for  in  answer  "to  your  last  question  I  would  say  that 
I  have  kept  my  word  to  you  and  done  with  her  as  I  said  I  would. 
The  rose  bloom  still  lies  upon  her  cheek,  and  she  often  speaks 
your  name  in  her  sleep.  You  are  indeed  a  fortunate  man  to  have  a 
brother  as  good  and  kind  as  I,  as  you  have  been  heard  to  say  you 
would  give  your  life  to  gaze  once  more  upon  her.  You  shall  gaze 
and  the  life  you  are  so  willing  to  give  up  for  that  blessed  privilege 
you  may  keep.  Behold!" 

As  he  finished  speaking,  he  swung  the  door  wide  open  and 
stepped  back  -a  pace.  Upon  the  bed  lay  the  almost  nude  form  of  a 
graceful  woman,  but  the  honest  eyes  of  Gordon  were  held  by  the 
lovely  face  alone.  It  was  Dorris.  Forgetting  all  else,  he  made 
a  move  to  rush  to  her  side,  but  his  head  struck  the  sill  and  his 
outstretched  hands  sunk  in  the  edge  of  the  rich  carpet  just  beyond. 
He  had  forgotten  even  the  heavy  chain  which  held  him  prisoner. 
He  called  her  name  while  he  was  regaining  his  feet  and  repeated 
it  many  times  after.  No  answer.  That  was  strange !  Robert  was 
leaning  against  the  jamb  of  the  door,  chuckling  between  each  puff 
of  the  rich  Havana  _  he  was  smoking.  The  truth  began  to  dawn 
upon  Gordon,  and  his  face  was  gray  with  terror  as  he  turned  his 
questioning  eyes  upon  his  fiendish  brother,  who  said  in  an  insinuat- 
ing way, 

"Pretty,  isn't  she?    Like  to  be  free,  eh?" 

Gordon  tried  to  reach  him.     No  use.    Then  he  cried  out, 

"O  you  inhuman  monster!  You  fiend  incarnate!  Why  does 
not  God  wither  you  up  as  you  stand?" 

His  only  answer  was  a  chuckle  and  a  puff  of  cigar  smoke  in 
his  face.  He  again  turned  towards  the  sleeping  girl  he  loved  so 
dearly  and  truly.  He  shouted  her  name  at  the  top  of  his  voice, 
but  the  beautiful,  inanimate  form  never  stirred.  The  long  lashes 
and  grieved  little  mouth  failed  to  respond.-  He  again  turned  his 
attention  to  the  smiling  devil  near  him.  As  he  did  so,  he  received 
another  puff  of  cigar  smoke  in  his  ashen  face,  followed  by  the 
terse  question, 

"Hear  any  bells?" 

"No !  you  spawn  of  evil,  but  I  see " 

Robert  here  interrupted  him  with,  "Well,  you  have  seen  quite 
enough  for  this  time.  In  a  minute  you  won't  see  anything;  if  you 


274  WICKED  CITY. 

get  tired  listening  to  the  bells,  you  can  kill  time  and  rats  by  telling 
your  troubles  to  them." 

"Robert,  you  don't  mean " 

What  he  would  have  said  was  cut  short  by  another  puff  of 
smoke  and  the  thud  of  the  heavily  padded  door,  as  it  swung  in 
place,  leaving  him  in  this  dungeon  of  horrors  to  tug,  beat  and 
wrench  at  the  chain  which  held  him.  The  great  rats,  some  almost 
the  size  of  a  cat,  became  bolder.  They  gnawed  at  the  leather  of 
his  shoes,  which  forced  him  to  kick  right  and  left.  This  seemed 
to  enrage  them,  for  they  ran  up  his  legs,  to  his  neck,  face  and 
ears.  He  fought  them  off  with  his  hands.  Many  times  they  clung 
to  his  finger  tips.  He  killed  many,  but  others  seemed  to  fill  their 
places  at  once.  Feverish,  sore  and  heart-broken,  he  fought  on 
with  the  slimy  creatures — to  stop  for  a  moment  would  be  only  to 
give  up  his  life  to  them.  Hungry,  weak  and  wretched,  he  manfully 
fought  on  hour  after  hour,  ^hey  were  evidently  rats  from  some 
sewer  near  by,  for  the  smell  from  them  was  sickening.  He  almost 
fainted  a  number  of  times. 

"My  God !  Is  it  possible  that  he,  my  brother,  foresaw  this  and 
means  for  me  to  be  devoured  alive?  It  seems  impossible,  yet  it 
must  be  so.  Ah,  what  a  h«  "  1e  revenge  he  has  taken !" 

The  rats  he  was  now  fighting  to  keep  clear  of  his  face  and 
hands  were  reinforced  by  a  number  more  directly  from  the  sewer, 
and  the  already  horrible  stench  became  worse  as  they  squeezed 
their  way  into  this  underground  dungeon.  He  could  see  their 
gleaming  little  eyes  in  the  darkness  as  they  surrounded  him  and 
proceeded  to  climb  over  his  person.  He  now  fought  desperately, 
crying  out  for  help,  and  attempted  to  reach  the  door,  as  he  had 
many  times  before;  but  the  only  way  he  could  reach  it  even  by  his 
hands  was  by  lying  full  length  upon  the  ground.  To  do  this  meant 
sure  death.  He  soon  became  almost  too  weak  to  stand.  He  grew 
faint.  His  head  swam  around,  he  fell  to  his  knees,  then  on  his 
hands.  Hundreds  of  savage  creatures  took  advantage  of  this  mo- 
mentary weakness  and  as  he  again  managed  to  struggle  to  his  feet 
they  were  clinging  to  every  portion  of  his  body. 

The  weight  and  stench  almost  dragered  him  to  earth  again, 
but  he  made  one  last  effort  to  free  himself  from  their  sharp  teeth 
and  foul  bodies.  He  was  thrashing  around  in  every  direction,  when 
suddenly  the  rat  pit  was  flooded  with  light,  and  they  instantly 
dropped  down  and  scampered  away  with  squeaks  of  fright. 

A  HEAVEN  WITH  BUT  ONE  ANGEL. 

Gordon  had  fought  for  hours  with  the  foul-smelling  sewer  rats. 
The  captain  of  the  Wits  stood  in  the  door,  just  having  returned 
from  a  successful  raid.  As  his  eyes  fell  upon  the  awful  sight  his 
brother  presented,  the  smile  he  was  prepared  to  greet  his  prisoner 
with  almost  left  his  face,  but  it  immediately  returned,  as  he  said, 

"Well,  that  is  pretty  near  h ,  isn't  it?  How  do  you  like 

it?  Did  you  hear  any  bells  jingling  while  I  was  gone?' 


WICKED   CITY.  275 

"You  merciless  fiend!  No.  I  was  too  busy  to  hear  anything 
trying  to  preserve  my  life  from  these  filthy  creatures." 

"Rats,  eh?" 

"Yes,  rats.  Do  you  mean  that  I  shall  be  devoured  alive  by 
them?" 

"Oh  by  no  means,  my  dear  boy,  I  just  want  to  give  you  a 
glimpse  of  purgatory  and  a  glimpse  of  heaven.  Do  you  want  another 
glimpse  of  heaven?" 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

Gordon  had  staggered  as  near  the  door  as  the  chain  would 
allow. 

"Well,  where  you  are  now  is  purgatory  and  where  I  am  is 
nearly  a  heaven.  Even  though  yon  are  in  a  place  worse  than  purga- 
tory, I  will  give  you  a  glimpse  of  a  place  equal  to  heaven." 

"Yes,  Robert,  but  a  heaven  with  but  one  angel." 

"Well,  dear  boy,  gaze  upon  the  angel  then,  while  I  get  you 
some  refreshments  and  a  light  to  keep  your  little  devils  away. 
You  look  like  a  stall-fed  ghost,  or  the  'old  boy'  himself." 

Throwing  the  padded  door  open,  he  left  the  room  to  procure 
food  and  drink  for  his  famished  victim.  As  Robert  disappeared, 
Gordon  tried  again  to  rouse  the  sleeping  girl  by  calling  her  name, 
but  it  only  caused  her  to  stir  slightly  and  murmur  his  name.  As 
she  did  so,  he  plainly  heard  the  jingling  of  the  bells  attached  by 
Robert  to  her  flowing  gown. 

"O  God,  what  a  fiend  of  mockery  he  is !  He  must  be  mad,  but 
there  is  method  in  his  madness.'  God  help  us  to  escape  from  this 
vile  den !'' 

Food  and  drugged  wine  was  forced  on  him  and  he  became  once 
more  unconscious.  He  found  himself  the  following  morning  in  the 
Harrison  Street  Police  station,  just  reviving  from  the  effects  of 
the  drug.  He  had  been  found  lying  upon  the  sidewalk  by  detectives, 
Shubert  and  Wpolrige.  Thinking  he  was  drunk,  they  gathered  him 
in  and  he  occupied  a  cell  until  court  set  at  9  a.  m.  He  was  promptly 
set  at  liberty  by  Justice  Richardson.  After  a  good  bath  and  change 
of  clothes  throughout,  he  sent  for  Arlex  and  Rometto.  To  them 
he  related  his  experience  but  was  unable  to  locate  the  place  exactly. 

"Yes,  your  friend,  Palmello  told  us  of  the  occurrence  near  a 
church  and  we  have  been  looking  for  you  all  night.  The  detectives 
found  you  on  Custom  House  Place.  That  is  what  puzzled  us. 
Don't  tell  your  story  to  anyone  else.  They  would  not  believe  it  and 
it  will  do  no  good.  Anyway,  it  is  a  clue  and  proves  our  first  theory 
to  be  correct,  the  theory  we  have  worked  on,  that  they  are  in  the 
levee  district.  From  your  appearance,  I  should  judge  you  must 
have  had  an  awful  experience  for  your  hair  is  tinged  with  gray." 

"Oh,  I  did  not  mind  the  rats  so  much.  But  the  other!  O  my 
God !  My  friends,  it  was  awful,  too  awful  to  repeat,  too  awful  to 
think  of.  He  made  a  threat  once  that  he  would  turn  my  hair  as 
gray  as  a  sewer  rat,  and  plant  gravestones  around  my  heart,  and  he 
has  certainly  commenced  planting  them.  My  heart  is  heavier  than 


276  WICKED   CITY. 

one  to-day.  I  would  sooner  have  one  planted  at  my  head  than  to 
see  and  hear  what  I  did  in  that  awful  'den  of  horrors.' " 

"Well,  cheer  up,  Mr.  Long.  Remember  that  it  is  just  such 
awful  things  as  this  that  make  men  of  us.  The  perfidy  of  your 
brother  has  opened  your  eyes  to  the  world." 

They  hurried  off  just  as  Palmello  (Gordon's  supposed  friend) 
entered,  and  these  two  were  soon  comparing  notes.  Later,  Palmello 
again  accompanied  him  around  Custom  House  Place  in  quest  of 
himself  and  enjoyed  the  performance  hugely. 

A  VICTIM   OF  A  PLOT. 

At  midnight,  Robert  transferred  Dorris  to  a  new  prison,  a 
secret  chamber  he  had  fitted  up  for  her  in  the  mansion.  Here  Kit, 
who  knew  nothing  of  the  awful  scene  in  the  rat  pit,  kept  her  com- 
pany during  the  night,  returning  to  her  own  place  at  day.  Red 
played  hackman,  as  before.  He  and  Kit  were  the  only  ones  trusted 
with  the  location  of  his  residence. 

His  pal  of  the  lake  front  scrimmage,  who  had  during  this  time 
been  held  a  prisoner,  was  now  released.  This  was  brought  about 
by  Arlex  and  Rometto  who  thought  he  might  lead  them  to  his  con- 
federates. They  kept  him  in  sight  for  two  days.  At  last  their 
perseverance  was  rewarded  to  a  certain  extent.  The  crook  now  led 
them  by  a  circuitous  route  to  Custom  House  Place.  Glancing 
around  to  see  that  he  was  not  observed,  disappeared  in  one  of  the 
many  houses  under  ban.  Arlex  quickly  made  his  way  round  to  the 
rear,  while  Rometto  rang  the  bell.  The  door  was  opened  and  he 
was  admitted  by  Kit.  She  was  well-known  to  the  detectives.  He 
called  her  by  name,  and  inquired  if  the  crook  was  there.  She  re- 
plied that  he  was  not.  He  seemed  to  doubt  her  word.  She  told 
him  he  might  search  the  house,  which  he  did,  but  of  course  found 
no  trace  of  his  man.  Much  puzzled,  he  joined  his  companion,  and 
together  they  talked  it  over.  Then  Rometto  returned  to  the  front 
and  they  shadowed  the  house  for  a  few  moments  longer.  Mean- 
time, the  crook  had  found  his  way  to  the  underground  den.  He 
knew  nothing  of  the  new  captain  and  was  not  aware  this  was  now 
the  retreat  of  the  "long  and  short"  men.  He  had  just  opened  a 
conversation  about  the  handsome  and  peculiar  clock  which  he  had 
noticed  with  greedy  eyes,  when  Kit  came  and  informed  them  of  the 
detectives'  visit.  Red  told  him  he  had  better  stay  inside  for  a  week 
or  so,  or  "steer  clear  o'  de  joint  for  a  while."  He  had  been  kept 
inside  too  much,  as  he  thought,  so  he  made  up  his  mind  to  leave 
the  city.  Red  went  above  with  Kit. 

"Now  is  me  chance.  I'll  jest  cop  dat  clock  an  blow  out  by  de 
old  church.  I  kin  get  a  good  stake  out  of  it,  fer  I  knows  of  a  swell 
cove  wat  pays  a  fortune  sometimes  fer  dis  'ere  kind.  He  has  got 
his  house  full  of  em.  I'll  have  t'  make  'im  tink  as  wat  it  is  on  de 
square  dough,  or  he  won't  touch  it.  He'll  pass  it  up  sure,  but  I 
kin  do  dat,  I  guess." 


WICKED  CITY.  277 

So  thinking,  the  crook  wrapped  the  clock  in  a  rain  coat  he  saw 
hanging  on  the  wall,  then  rummaging  around,  found  a  long  strap 
which  he  drew  tightly  around  it.  Prepared  thus,  he  soon  emerged 
from  the  shadows  of  the  old  church.  By  some  peculiar  means,  he 
had  become  acquainted  with  the  fact  that  C.  E.  Merrill  of  No.  275 
53rd  street,  president  of  the  Larson  Company,  was  the  possessor  of 
a  large  collection  of  odd,  antique  clocks  of  rich  and  peculiar  designs, 
and  was  still  adding  to  this  collection  at  every  opportunity.  The 
crook  started  off  in  the  direction  of  his  residence. 

Arlex,  getting  disgusted,  while  in  the  rear  watching  a  building 
which  he  was  satisfied  did  not  hold  their  man,  left  with  his  com- 
panion. As  they  were  turning  into  Polk  street,  they  saw  the  very 
one  they  were  looking  for  coming  from  the  direction  of  the  notorious 
Boiler  Avenue,  with  a  large  bundle  which  he  carried  by  a  strap. 
The  moment  he  saw  the  two  detectives,  he  dropped  it  and  ran. 
Thus  the  clock  came  into  the  possession  of  the  mystified  detectives. 
The  crook  could  not  be  found,  so  it  was  left  with  them  as  before 
stated. 

Robert  was  furious  over  the  loss  of  the  clock,  for  he  had  now 
looked  forward  with  some  degree  of  interest  to  the  time  when  it 
would  give  up  (as  he  supposed)  the  secret  of  his  birth  and  who  his 
mother  was.  He  sent  the  "wits"  all  on  a  still  hunt,  giving  them 
orders  not  to  claim  it,  as  that  would  be  disastrous,  but  to  "swipe" 
it  It  proved  useless.  The  clock  or  "crook"  could  not  be  located. 
It  made  him  more  vicious  and  cruel.  The  following  evening,  they 
held  up  on  the  street  a  country  merchant  visiting  Chicago  who 
strenuously  protested.  Robert  vented  some  of  his  ill-feeling  by 
hitting  him  over  the  nose  every  time  he  opened  his  mouth,  and  as 
the  merchant  was  plucky  and  persistent,  he  hit  him  many  times 
with  the  butt  of  a  pistol.  When  they  had  at  last  relieved  him  of  his 
money  and  valuables,  they  left  him  with  his  nose  flattened  to  his 
face  and  disfigured  for  life.  In  man}'  ways  he  vented  his  wrath. 
Red  and  others  of  the  band  were  careful  not  to  offend  him,  even 
Kit  shuddered  as  she  caught  the  cold  gleam  of  his  eves. 

The  following  day,  they  made  one  of  their  raids.  The  bold- 
ness of  it  was  never  equaled.  In  broad  day,  they  held  up  another 
large  store,  crowded  with  clerks  and  shoppers.  His  outside  man, 
for  the  first  time,  unintentionally  gave  the  wrong  "office"  as  they 
passed  out.  The  eyes  that  looked  into  his  had  for  the  moment 
confused  even  him,  a  man  careless  of  death  itself.  The  consequence 
of  this  mistake  was  that  they  were  obliged  to  fire  into  the  crowd  in 
order  to  make  a  sure  ''get-away."  Later  in  the  evening  the  "pioe" 
was  thrown  in  the  pit  and  he  fought  rats  for  an  hour.  After  that 
there  were  no  more  mistakes.  While  his  lesser  light  was  fighting 
rats,  the  cruel  captain  was  enjoying  a  cigar  and  bottle  with  his 
lieutenant. 

"Say,  Red,  where  did  you  get  that  handkerchief  I  see  around 
your  neck?" 

"Dflt's  de  one  ye  staked  me  t'  on  de  lake  front  t'  tie  up  me 
scalp  wid." 


278  WICKED  CITY. 

"That  is  what  I  thought.  Well,  the  next  raid  we  make,  just 
drop  it  where  it  can  be  found  readily." 

"Wot—" 

"There,  there,  you  go  again,  asking  questions.  Just  do  as  I 
tell  you  and  you  will  do  what  is  right." 

"All  right,  captin,  wat  yuse  says  goes  wid  me  every  flop  out  o' 
de  box." 

After  the  next  bold  hold  up,  the  police  found  a  clue,  and  they 
followed  it  up.  Their  work  was  good  and  very  rapid.  The  owner 
of  the  handkerchief  was  located  before  the  sun  set.  Palmello  could 
not  resist  the  temptation  to  be  on  hand  when  the  owner  was  brought 
in  by  the  officers.  Therefore,  he  hung  around  headquarters.  The 
sight  he  saw  when  the  "Black  Maria"  or  police  patrol  drove  up 
with  clanging  bell,  more  than  rewarded  him,  for  his  gloating  eye 
fell  on  the  face  of  Gordon  who  was  undergoing  the  humiliation  of 
being  ushered  down  a  line  of  police  to  a  prison  cell,  handcuffed  to 
an  opium  fiend  on  one  side  and  to  a  well-known  thief  on  the  other, 
while  a  Chinaman  and  a  dozen  "long  and  short"  suspects  with 
crime  stamped  on  most  every  feature  were  his  companions.  Later, 
he  was  lined  up  with  a  crowd  of  other  suspects  for  identification. 
The  long  room  was  crowded  with  merchants  and  other  business 
men  who  were  victims  of  the  bold  bandits. 

Palmello  was  on  hand,  apparently  doing  all  he  could  to  obtain 
his  friend's  release,  but  this,  of  course  (under  the  circumstances) 
was  impossible,  as  he  well  knew  the  evidence  against  Gordon  was 
too  strong,  and  he  himself  was  astonished.  They  showed  Gordon 
a  handkerchief  with  his  name  in  full  worked  in  the  silk  border. 
Did  he  recognize"  it,  he  was  asked.  Yes,  he  did.  It  was  certainly 
his.  How  did  it  come  here?  He  was  positive  he  had  left  it  among 
some  other  cast-off  things  at  his  home  in  London.  This  assertion 
brought  a  smile  all  around.  Then  he  was  more  astonished  than 
ever  for  several  merchants  he  was  positive  he  never  saw  before, 
stepped  forward  and  identified  him  as  the  notorious  "long  man" 
who  had  terrorized  the  city  for  months  past.  Then  they  produced 
the  two  blue  magazine  guns  Gordon  was  carrying  while  on  his 
ceaseless  hunt  for  Dorris.  Did  he  recognize  these?  Yes,  they  were 
his.  It  seemed  he  could  not  deny  anything.  Rometto  and  Arlex 
Cwhp  had  just  arrived  from  their  quarters  where,  they  had  been  dis- 
cussing the  mysterious  clock,  the  "long  and  short"  raids  and  things 
in  general)  looked  with  eyes  of  surprise  at  Gordon,  who  looked  at 
them  in  turn  with  questioning  eyes.  But  they  were  now  in  turn 
gazinsr  at  Palmello  with  something  mere  than  mere  interest.  They 
saw  the  gloating  look  and  their  suspicions  were  strengthened. 


WICKED   CITY.  279 

ROMETTO  AND  ARLEX   IN   DISGUISE.     BILLY    SKUTES 
OF  HERKIMER. 

The  detectives  did  what  they  could  to  obtain  their  friend's 
release,  for  they  were  positive  he  was  innocent,  but  the  evidence 
against  him  was  too  strong.  They  could  do  nothing  until  he  was 
given  a  regular  trial.  He  was  sent  back  to  his  cell  and  the  iron 
door  clanged  to  upon  another  innocent  man,  the  victim  of  circum- 
stances, and  his  heartless  brother's  cold-blooded  and  diabolical 
scheme. 

The  two  detectives,  accompanied  by  Palmello,  visited  him  here, 
and  assured  him  that  they  would  have  him  out  soon.  Gordon  bore 
tip  under  this  new  blow  with  becoming  fortitude.  Leaving 
Palmello  behind,  the  detectives  returned  to  their  quarters 
where  they  quickly  disguised  themselves  as  well  to  do  stock  men, 
just  in  from  the  west.  Hurrying  back  to  the  jail,  they  were  in  time 
to  see  Palmello  coming  out.  This  was  their  plan,  for  if  he  had  any 
suspicion,  he  certainly  could  not  have  given  them  credit  of  chang- 
ing in  such  a  short  space  of  time.  They  stopped  him  with  a  ques- 
tion. 

"I  say  stranger,  mout  weuns  ask  youns  fer  a  mite  of  informa- 
shun  ?" 

Palmello's  cold  eye  looked  them  through  and  through  as  he 
replied: 

"Of  course,  what  is  it  you  wish?" 

"Wa-al,  yer  see  it's  jes  this  ere  way,  weuns  left  our  wimin 
folke  ter  hum  an  toted  a  keer  full  o'  critters  all  the  way  from 
Nebraska  an  weve  got  money  left,  though  I  guess  weye  bin  yere 
nigh  onter  three  weeks.  Wa'al,  an  yer  wont  believe  it,  but  thar 
aint  over  tue-thirds  of  the  folks  in  this  ere  teoun  seed  us,  an  theres 
a  few  people  that  weuns  heerd  tell  about  away  up  in  our  teoun  that 
weuns  aint  seed,  an  weuns  wanter  take  er  look  at  them  air  fellers." 

"Well,  what  has  that  got  to  do  with  me?" 

The  tone  was  curt  and  sharp. 

"Oh,  wa-al,  Mister,  hopes  youns  will  excuse  weuns,  but  youns 
looked  like  er  real  gentleman  as  wernt  too  fine  ter  answer  a  few 
questions." 

"Well,  my  time,  you  see,  is  somewhat  limited.  Excuse  me  if 
I  spoke  somewhat  curtly.  It  is  a  way  of  mine  with  strangers.  If 
we  were  better  acquainted,  why  of  course — but  who  are  these  great 
celebrities  whose  fame  has  reached  even  to  the  cornhills  of  Ne- 
braska? It  can't  be  the  Mayor  or  Chief  of  Police?" 

"Naw." 

"HinkeyDink?" 

"Naw." 

"Bath  House  John?" 

"Naw,  weuns  knew  him  and  weve  seed  thar  chief  an  mayor. 
Weve  seed  the  whole  gol  durned  teoun." 

"Well,  I  can't  imagine  who  it  is  if  you  have,  as  you  say,  seen 
everybody  in  the  whole  city." 


S80  WICKED   CITY. 

Palmetto  had  penetrated  their  disguise,  although  it  was  the  best 
of  the  kind.  He  also  "dropped"  to  the  fact  that  these  men  sus- 
pected him.  He  must  be  on  his  guard,  so  he  played  the  part  of 
good  fellowship  and  apparently  played  into  their  hands. 

"I  guess  they  want  to  see  if  I  won't  steer  them  against  some 
sure  thing  graft,  and  tip  my  mit  to  them.  They  know  there  is 
something  wrong  with  me,  but  they  don't  know  what.  Well,  they 
will  have  their  pains  for  nothing.  They  will  never  know.  They 
can  suspect  all  they  want  to.  They  have  got  to  have  proof  before 
they  can  turn  a  wheel.  I  stand  too  well  with  the  city  they  so  very 
cleverly  represent." 

"Wa-al,  stranger,  them  air  fellers  weuns  want  ter  see  have 
made  things  purty  lively  deoun  here  for  youns,  the  'long  and 
shortun.' " 

"Oh,  you  mean  the  'long  and  short'  men?  Well,  there  are  a 
good  many  that  would  like  to  see  them.  There  are  over  a  million 
of  people  in  this  great  city  alone  that  are  in  the  same  boat.  And 
hundreds  of  merchants  would  like  to  see  them,  but  not  at  their 
places  of  business." 

"Wa-al,  what  weuns  have  hearn  tell  deoun  hum  an  up  here,  I 
shud  think  they  ud  ruther  see  em  in  the  calabouse.  We  heern  tell 
as  they  were  thar  now  and  that  thar  is  the  place  weuns  were  goin, 
but  thought  as  youns  might  tell  weuns  how  ter  get  in  thar." 

"Well,  you  will  get  in  there  soon  enough  if  you  go  round  talk- 
ing to  strangers  like  you  do  to  me.  It  is  a  bad  plan.  You  might 
run  onto  a  'confidence  man'  or  the  'long  and  short'  men,  them- 
selves." 

"Wa-al,  thanks,  stranger,  that  thar  be  mighty  good  of  yous  ter 
say  so,  but  how  air  weuns  agoin  to  run  a  muck  of  that  thar  'long 
tin  and  short  un'  when  they  are  sure  nough  in  that  thar  'calerboose' 
yonder?" 

"Oh,  they  are  not  in  there.  There  are  hundreds  of  men  in  the 
'calerboose'  as  you  call  it,  held  on  suspicion  of  being  either  the  'long* 
or  'short'  man,  but  they  have  none  of  the  right  parties  yet." 

"An  what  makes  youns  think  they  have  none  of  the  right  par- 
ties yet?" 

"Well,  that  is  easy  to  see.  The  jails  are  full  of  'long  and  short' 
suspects,  and  still  the  bold  hold  ups  go  on.  If  the  notorious  ban- 
dits were  in  there,  they  certainly  could  not  at  the  same  time  be 
holding  up  some  store." 

"Yeas,  but  moightn't  them  ere  fellers  that  they  got  ter  day  be 
thar  ones?" 

"Certainly  not.  Why,  one  of  them  is  my  most  intimate  friend, 
and  I  am  sure  he  is  innocent." 

"Dew  tell!" 

"Yes,  and  _  the  evidence  against  him  is  pretty  strong,  in  fact 
almost  conclusive,  still,  by  to-morrow,  there  will  probably  be  an- 
other hold  up  by  the  real  'long  and  short'  bandits."  (As  he  said 
this,  he  knew  in  his  own  mind  that  there  would  not,  for  he  had 
made  the  statement  to  the  parties  of  the  last  hold  up  that  this  was 


WICKED   CITY.  281 

the  "long  and  short"  of  it,  and  the  last  of  it,  and  he  meant  it,  for 
he  wished  it  to  appear  that  the  hold  tips  were  stopped  by  the  cap- 
ture of  Gordon.  This  would  make  evidence  against  him  complete, 
and  for  this  purpose  alone,  the  city  was  to  have  a  breathing  spell 
for  a  short  time). 

"Dew  tell!  Wa-al  gall  durn  our  buttons,  what  deu  you  think 
of  that  'Bill?'  This  is  my  friend,  Bill,  Billy  Skutes  of  Herkimer. 
He's  almost  as  bad  as  that  thar  'long*  feller.  Probably  youns  have 
hearn  tell  about  it.  Na?  Wa'al,  sir,  yer  wouldn't  believe  it  ter  look 
at  him,  but  he's  thar  feller  that  stole  thar  big  cheese  over  at  Her- 
kimer." 

"You  don't  say  so.    Well,  Mr.  Skutes,  I  am  glad  to  see  you." 

"Wa-al,  as  I  was  saying,  he  stole  the  cheese  an  hid  over  in  a 
teoun  called  Hogback  an  they  never  would  of  found  him  only  yer 
see  Bill  was  smoking  one  of  them  ere  segars  they  calls  'Telephone' 
segars.  (Billy  Bryan  gave  it  to  him.)  Everybody  in  them  ere 
parts  knew  that  Bill  had  that  ere  segar.  It  war  nigh  onter  thirty 
miles  ter  Hogback,  but  they  smelt  that  ere  'Telephone'  segar  in 
Herkimer  and  gobbled  him  in.  Gosh  all  firelocks !  Youns  ought 
ter  see  that  thar  teoun !  It  riz  right  up  like  this  ere  teoun  after  the 
'long  and  short'  un.  Lightnin  bugs  in  June!  But  youns  ju«t  ought 
ter  seed  ole  Zeph  Aikens  thar  sheriff  and  teoun  marshal,  when  they 
toted  him  back  inter  teoun,  cheese  an  all.  Them  ere  officers  had 
one  hand  on  thar  nose  an  tother  on  Bill's  collar.  The  whole  teoun 
was  thar  ter  see  him  but  when  they  got  thar  they  were  in  er  fix 
ter  know  what  ter  deu  with  him." 

"I  should  thought  they  would  have  hung  him,"  Palmello  said 
with  a  good  natured  smile,  wishing  to  carry  out  this  farce  with  as 
good  grace  as  they. 

"Wa-al,  yer  see  they  war  agoin  ter,  but  when  they  went  ter 
look  fer  a  rope,  they  couldn't  find  un." 

"Well,  that  was  strange,  how  was  that?" 

"Wa-al  yer  see  the  boys — durn  their  hides — hed  smoked  em." 

"You  don't  say !" 

"Ya-as,  and  yer  see  how  'twas.  Bill  har,  he  war  the  mayor, 
chief  o'  police,  judge  and  the  hull  thing." 

"Impossible !" 

"Yeas,  he  don't  look  it,  but  he  was  a  bigger  man  than  youns 
mayor  here." 

""I  don't  doubt  it." 

They  had  been  walking  along  while  carrying  on  this  peculiar 
conversation  and  were  now  opposite  some  refreshment  parlors.  He 
risked  them  in,  an  invitation  they  readily  accepted.  While  regaling 
themselves  with  refreshments  Palmello  again  opened  the  conversa- 
tion. 

"Well,  did  they  then  send  to  some  other  town  for  a  rope?" 

"Wa-al  now,  yer  see  they  knew  that  it  ud  be  no  use  fer  all 
them  ere  teoun s  round  about,  kind  o'  run  short  on  segars  and  baccy 
and  they  all  smoke  rope  up  our  way  in  them  days  sept'n  Bill  Bryan 
and  ole  Jones." 


383  WICKED  CITY. 

Billy  Skutes  of  Herkimer  now  broke  in  for  almost  the  first 
time.  "O,  I  knows  Bill  Bryan  purty  wal.  I  was  named  after  him. 
My  mother's  aunt's  cousin's  sister  says  as  I  look  a  good  deal  like 
his  father  did  when  she  was  a  gel  tech  in  schule  an  his  father  an 
my  father  uster  go  by  her  schule  house  door  t'gether  a  rabbit  huntin 
over  in  the  big  woods  beyent." 

"Ya-as,  that  be  so,  Mr. " 

"Palmello  is  my  name.     'Louis  Palmello.' " 

"Thanks.  Youns  are  a  real  gentleman,  Mr.  Palmello  an  my 
name  is  Quick,  Rollie  D.  Quick.  My  name  uster  was  Peter  Dan 
Quick,  but  my  ant  Salaratur  seed  them  thar  Vasceline  Sisters  at  er 
show  thet  cum  tue  our  teoun  onst  an  she  made  me  change  my  name 
to  Rollie,  something  with  scallops  on  it  yar  know." 

"So  your  full  name  as  it  stands  now  is  "Rollie  D.  Quick?" 

"Ya-as  'that's  the  long  and  short'  of  it." 

"Well,  I'm  afraid  that  you  are  not  living  up  to  what  the  name 
suggests — quickness.  At  any  rate,  quickness  in  getting  to  the  end 
of  a  story." 

^  "Aw  ya-as.  'Twist  my  ribs'  if  I  didn't  mos  forget.  I  was  er 
telling  about  Bill  stealing  the  big  cheese.  Wa-al,  as  I  war  a  sayin 
Bill  was  thar  whole  thing  out  thar,  so  he  ordered  himself  locked  up 
then  ordered  himself  unlocked,  and  then  he  sot  on  that  thar  j  edges 
bench  and  tried  hisself  and  fined  hisself  forty  cents  an  a  plug  o' 
baccy.  That  was  about  all  he  ever  had  in  them  ere  days.  Then 
the  blamed  cuss,  he  paid  hisself  and  tuck  a  chaw  of  baccy.  But 
them  air  teoun  folks  kicked  and  said  as  it  warn't  fair  nohow,  so 
Bill — oh,  he's  a  cute  un,  is  Bill!" 

"Yes,  I  believe  you,  in  fact  I  think  you  are  both  pretty  clever. 
You  ought  to  be^  in  the  detective  business.  We  need  some  more 
good  men  here  in  the  city." 

Arlex  and  Rometto  had  about  made  up  their  minds  that  their 
shrewd  companion  had  penetrated  their  disguise.  Their  plans  to 
find  out  the  true  nature  of  this  wonderful  man  had  failed.  The 
bait  they  held  out  to  him  was  tempting  for  they  had  flashed  large 
sums  of  money  in  greenbacks.  He  was,  they  now  thought,  either 
honest  and  a  gentleman  or  else  a  clever  actor  and  on  to  their  make 
up.  Could  they  be  on  the  wrong  track?  No.  Something  told 
them  no.  Their  suspicions  had  been  strengthened  by  the  gloating 
look  they  had  noticed  on  his  features  as  he  gazed  at  the  victim  of 
his  wicked  but  clever  scheme. 

"Wa-al,  Mr.  Honery  Palmer—" 

"  'Palmello,'  if  you  please." 

"Oh,  ya-as,  sure  nough,  'Palmelder,'  I  don't  mind  a  tellin  youns 
(but  yer  mustn't  say  a  word  about  it  to  the  mayor  or  Bill  Bryan 
when  he  gets  t'  be  president)  that  weuns  air  both  detectives.  Ya-as, 
Bill  an  me  air  both  full-fledged  detective  fellers.  Thet's  wat  we  !>,. 
We  sent  ten  dollars  apiece  to  er  detective  asfency  an  they  sent  \veuns 
their  whole  business,  a  paper  as  they  called  a  commission  an  er 
star  an  er  dark  lantern  an  er  pistol.  Bill  uses  his  dark  lantern 


WICKED  CITY.  283 

now  to  spear  bull-heads  with  at  night  on  the  mill-pond;  an  they 
sent  a  pair  of  them  air — what  d'  yer  call  em,  Bill?" 

"Scapes  my  mind  jes  wat  they  did  call  them  air  blamed  things." 

"Anyway,  Bill  made  er  pair  o'  bits  out  o'  them  for  his  horses." 

"Oh,  you  mean  'come-alongs?'" 

"Wa-al,  come  ter  think,  I  believe  that  thar  is  jest  what  they 
call  'em.  Anyway,  they  'come  along'  with  the  other  traps.  I  know 
I  didn't  have  mine  long." 

"Well,  they  must  have  sent  you  almost  everything  except  a 
burglar." 

"Ya-as,  and  by  gosh,  I  think  they  sent  the  bugler,  tue,  I'll  be 
durned  if  I  don't,  although  thar  want  nery  a  one  in  the  package 
one  come  along  and  stole  them  air  'come-alongs'  and  the  whole 
shootin  match,  star,  dark  lantern,  pistol,  hand  cuffs,  and  all." 

"So  you  think  now  that  they  furnished  you  everything  for  ten 
dollars  to  catch  burglars  with,  then  sent  you  out  a  burglar  to  prac- 
tice on?" 

"No,  by  gosh,  I  think  they  sent  that  air  burgler  out  to  coon  em 
so  they  can  skin  some  other  Ruben  Glue  with  them.  But  say,  if 
Skutes,  I  mean  this  Bill  here, — goin  into  that  air  detective  racket 
fur  he'  laughed  hisself  hungry.  The  time  Bill  traded  apples  fur  a 
new  hat,  he  war  so  swell — " 

"Now  look  here,  Rollie  D.  Quick,  I  won't  have  yer  castin  sin- 
uashuns  before  this  gentleman,"  said  Bill. 

Palmello  now  interrupted,  becoming  slightly  impatient,  although 
interested  in  their  peculiar  talk  and  their  clever  acting. 

"Well,  how  about  the  cheese?" 

"Wa-al,  as  I  were  a  sayin,  the  folks  wern't  satisfied  so  .Bill  he 
orders  a  jury  trial  an  then  he  orders  that  air  jury  to  take  kere  of 
thar  cheese.  (I  forgot  to  say  that  Bill  here  is  Dutch  an  the  rest 
o'  the  teoun  was  Irish.)  Wa-al  the  jury  tuck  keer  o'  the  cheese, 
an  Bill  as  the  jedge  made  his  charge  to  the  jury  an  told  them  not  t' 
find  him  guilty  to  durned  quick.  The  hull  gal  durned  teoun  purty 
near  wuz  on  that  air  jury  so  thar  jedge,  Bill  here,  tole  them  that  he 
would  lock  em  up  in  their  jury  room  with  their  cheese  an  if  they 
found  him  guilty  they  were  to  knock  once  only  an  he  would  go  out 
an  hang  hisself  with  the  rope  he  wore  fur  suspenders,  an  if  he  want 

fuilty  that  they  must  knock  onst  then  follow  this  a  little  < later  by  a 
nil  lot  o'  knocks.  Wa-al  he  purty  near  knocked  that  pir  case  fer 
this  air  was  a  big  cheese  an  Linbereer  at  that.  Wa-al  Bill  he  locked 
the  teoun  up  in  the  jury  room  with  that  air  cheese  an  of  course  in 
about  a  minute  there  was  a  knock  an  in  about  five  minutes  more 
thar  war  five  hundred  knocks  to  get  out  and — " 

"Well,  my  friend,  I  am  afraid  I  will  have  to  leave  you." 

"Ya-as,  but  jes  wait  till  I  tell  youns — " 

"No,  I  am  sorry,  but  I  guess  I  will  have  to  leave  you  and  the 
town  in  the  jury  room  with  the  cheese  until  some  other  time.  My 
friend  is  in  trouble  and  I  must  try  and  do  something  for  him.  If 
you  are,  as  you  say,  going  to  remain  in  the  city  until  you  see  the 
long  and  short'  men,  possibly  I  may  have  the  pleasure  of  meeting 


284  WICKED   CITY. 

you  again.     Good-day,  Mr.  Skutes,  and  you  also,  Mr.  Quick.    Good- 
day,  good-day." 

He  was  gone,  and  he  had  not  once  tried  to  work  them.  Could 
they  be  mistaken?  They  still  were  unsatisfied  regarding  his  char- 
acter. He  was  too  deep  and  too  cunning  to  be  tricked  into  showing 
his  true  nature.  The  supposed  farmers  talked  a  while  together  and 
made  up  their  minds  that  they  had  no  common  man  to  deal  with. 
It  was  "diamond  cut  diamond." 

THE  VEILED  MYSTERY. 

Differently  disguised,  they  shadowed  Palmello  day  and  night. 
They  noticed  a  woman  leave  his  residence  almost  every  morning 
and  return  in  the  evening.  She  was  heavily  veiled  and  seemed  to 
know  that  she  was  being  watched.  She  always  took  a  cab  and  some- 
times changed  vehicles  two  or  three  times  to  lose  the  shadows  al- 
ways at  her  heels.  For  a  week  she  successfully  eluded  them.  Once 
they  almost  made  up  their  minds  that  it  was  Dorris,  but  they  soon 
dismissed  this  idea.  Once  they  trailed  her  as  far  as  the  old  church. 
Her  cab  drove  off  at  a  rattling  pace  and  before  they  could  reach  the 
vicinity  she  had  disappeared.  They  searched  all  houses  which  were 
mostly  low  resorts.  They  then  picked  the  lock  of  the  church  door 
and  examined  the  interior  thoroughly  with  the  aid  of  a  little  bull's 
eye.  Not  there.  Where  could  she  have  disappeared  to? 

After  this  one  would  shadow  her  while  the  other  watched  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  church,  but  with  no  results.  The  holdups  had 
ceased  for  a  while.  It  looked  pretty  dark  for  Gordon,  and  it  was 
drawing  near  the  time  set  for  his  trial.  It  looked  as  if  he  must  cer- 
tainly suffer  for  all  the  deeds  of  the  notorious  bandit,  the  "long 
man."  Still,  he  knew  his  friends  were  working  hard  to  save  him 
and  he  hoped  for  the  best  and  bore  his  imprisonment  much  better 
than  many  of  the  other  hundreds  of  suspects  with  whom  he  was  in 
daily  touch.  He  seemed  to  win  the  respect  of  the  jail  officials,  pris- 
oners and  all.  It  was  small  punishment  according  to  what  he  had 
gone  through  with  already.  It  seemed  that  fate  was  against  him. 
Hundreds  of  merchants  thought  they  recognized  in  him  the  notori- 
ous bandit.  A  rumor  was  started  in  the  jail  that  he  was  also  to 
be  tried  for  the  cold-blooded  murder  of  South  and  West  Side  mer- 
chants. 

He  could  not  understand  how  the  handkerchief  came  there. 
He  could  understand  nothing,  only  that  he  was  innocent  of  all 
crime  and  yet  was  branded  as  the  greatest  criminal  unhung,  the 
"long  bandit"  and  would  probably  suffer  in  his  place  for  -his  crimes. 
Still  he  had  hope,  and  found  strength  in  prayer  to  the  effect  that 
he  might  be  liberated  to  continue  his  hunt  for  Dorris  and  alleviate 
the  distress  her  mysterious  disappearance  caused  to  so  many,  for 
she  held  a  warm  spot  in  the  hearts  of  all  who  knew  her.  Even 
Bonny  Bess  and  Toots  were  cast  down  and  much  dispirited.  They 
would  stand  for  hours  looking  up  and  down  the  long  stretch  of 
highway,  then  with  dejected  mein,  go  snuffing  around  the  idle  swing 


WICKED  CITY.  285 

or  rusty  chain  that  tethered  the  little  boat.  The  robins  were  still 
hopping  about,  gathering  up  the  crumbs  scattered  by  the  hand  of 
Henry,  who  had  a  soft  spot  in  his  heart  for  her  pets,  and  they  were 
faring  well  since  he  got  about  again.  Mrs.  Waite  was  completely 
prostrated  from  grief  and  remorse. 

The  two  determined  detectives  now  gave  most  of  their  attention 
to  Louis  Palmello  and  the  veiled  woman  that  came  and  went  so 
mysteriously.  They  slept  four  hours,  turn  about,  and  worked 
twenty.  Many  times  they  were  assisted  by  Jarl  and  his  bowery 
chum  in  shadowing  the  suspected  man  and  watching  the  different 
places  he  visited'.  They  noticed  that  he  often  met  a  well-known 
club  man,  known  as  "Lucky  Steve,"  a  realistic  story  writer  studying 
the  shady  side  of  life  in  Chicago.  They  often  met  at  the  Pan  Amer- 
ican, Chapin  and  Gores  and  Alderman  Powers'  buffet.  _  But  this 
proved  nothing.  "Lucky  Steve"  had  long  been  an  acquaintance  of 
the  two  detectives,  but  they  knew  from  experience  that  it  was  use- 
less to  ask  him  questions  about  anything  that  was  not  his  own  indi- 
vidual business. 

One  evening  Jarl  sent  them  the  information  by  his  bowery 
chum  that  Palmello  had  just  entered  a  certain  house  in  Custom 
House  Place.  They  hurried  over  and  found  Jarl  still  on  watch. 
He  pointed  out  the  number  to  them — "Break-o'-Day"  Kit's  place. 
"By  all  that's  queer,  what  can  he  be  doing  there?" 
They  watched  the  place  until  after  daylight,  while  they  sent 
Jarl  and  his  companion  to  watch  Palmello's  residence,  but  he  did 
not  appear.  Rometto  now  returned  to  watch  the  residence,  send- 
ing Jarl  to  relieve  Arlex.  Thus  they  worked  on,  keeping  both 
places  under  surveillance.  At  9  a.  m.  Palmello  came  down  the  mar- 
ble steps.  They  followed  him.  He  changed  to  three  or  four  dif- 
ferent cars,  and  it  proved  hard  work  to  keep  him  in  view.  He  then 
took  another  line  of  cars  back  to  the  levee  district.  Here  it  was 
easy  work  to  shadow  him  without  being  discovered.  He  entered 
"Break-o'-Day"  Kit's  place  with  a  latch  wey.  This  satisfied  them 
that  they  were  not  mistaken.  This  wonderful  man  was  leading  a 
double  life.  Being  satisfied  of  this,  they  made  up  their  minds  to 
expedite  matters.  Therefore  they  acted  quickly  and  to  the  point. 
They  knew  from  former  dealings  with  Kit  that  it  was  almost  use- 
less to  endeavor  to  "pump"  any  information  out  of  her,  but  they 
made  up  their  minds  to  try.  Ringing  the  bell,  they  were  smilingly 
vshered  in.  It  was  nothing  new  for  her  to  be  visited  by  the  agents 
of  the  law.  They  came  to  business  at  once. 

"Kit,  we  were  passing  and  happened  to  see  a  friend  of  ours 
drop  in,  a  gentleman  with  dark  Spanish  features,  very  handsome. 
We  would  like  to  see  him  a  moment  if  he  is  still  here." 

The  only  answer  they  secured  to  this  was  a  very  suggestive 
shrug  of  her  finely  formed  shoulders  and  a  slight  lifting  of  the  heavy 
lashes.  It  proved  utterly  impossible  to  get  a  word  out  of  her,  so 
they  left  her  smiling  at  them  in  a  tantalizing  way.  They  now 
watched  Palmello's  residence  till  they  saw  a  veiled  figure  walk 
gracefully  down  the  street  and  turn  in  at  the  gate.  They  then  took 


286  WICKED  CITY. 

turns  at  going  to  their  quarters  to  don  a  new  disguise.  Arlex,  made 
up  as  an  Irish  plumber,  presented  himself  at  the  house,  and  rang 
the  bell.  The  door  opened  to  the  length  of  a  short  chain  which 
held  it.  He  could  see  no  one  but  a  lady's  voice  inquired: 

"What  is  it  you  wish?" 

"Wei,  bejabers,  it's  nothin  at  all,  at  all  I'd  be  after  wantin,  but 
Mr.  Palmello  was  after  leavin  wurrd  at  the  gas  house  to  sind  doun 
a  mon  to  faix  de  gas  maeter." 

"Are  you  the  man?" 

"Oim  that  same,  mum.     Oi  be  the  man.'' 

"Well,  if  you  are  sure  that  you  are  the  gas  man,  I  guess  you 
had  better  come  when  he  is  at  home." 

The  door  was  closed. 

THE  ITALIAN  VENDER. 

Arlex  met  Rometto  coming  from  their  quarters,  disguised  as 
an  Italian  vender  with  terra  cotta  figures  in  a  basket.  Arlex 
related  his  experiences  and  his  companion  was  inclined  to  laugh 
and  said : 

"Just  wait  till  I  spring  these  figures  on  her.  She  can't  resist 
showing  her  face  then.  You  say  her  voice  is  familiar?" 

"Yes,  but  I  am  positive  now  that  it  is  not  Dorris." 

"Well,  I  can't  imagine  who  she  can  be,  but  we  shall  soon  see." 

Off  he  trotted  around  the  corner  and  up  the  steps. 

"Gooda  morn,  madam,  canna  me  showa  you  de  fig.  Sella  cheap. 
Me  no  gotta  de  mon,  harda  up.  Maka  de  pair  one  a  dol." 

"No,  I  guess  I  do  not  care  for  them;  besides  the  master  of  the 
house  is  not  in." 

The  invisible  speaker  attempted  to  gently  close  the  door,  but 
the  bogus  Italian,  as  if  by  accident,  slid  his  foot  between  the  crack 
and  commenced  in  a  rapid  way  to  praise  his  wares. 

"You  no  getta  de  chance  to  buy  lika  dees.  Me  give  him  to  a  you 
for  a  fifty  centa.  Me  no  sella  so  cheap  since  me  came  to  dis  a 
countara.  They  costa  me  more.  Me  no  make  de  mon  on  me  fig. 
Me  lossa  de  mon  dis  a  time.  Dis  is  a  nice  a  ting,  a  good  ting  to 
make  de  home  like  de  Italian  palace." 

"No,  we  don't  care  for  any." 

Still  Rometto  persisted  and  continued,  hoping  to  get  a  glimpse 
of  her  face,  if  nothing  more. 

"No  madame,  jesse  looka  at  dese  fina  fig.  Me  knowa  de  lady 
like  to  looka  at  de  prittee  tings.  Disa  one  is  Dona  Juana  an  disa 
one  is  Dona  Caesar,  a  fina  pair.  Me  wanta  go  outa  de  biz.  Me 
sella  him  for  forty-five  centa.  Me  wanta  getta  de  peanut  stand  an 
sella  de  popcorn,  an  go  backa  to  de  old  countara.  I  no  wanta  to 
come  to  disa  countara;  dey  make  me  come  to  disa  countar?. ;  puta 
me  on  a  bigga  ship  an  whena  me  gotta  to  Newa  York,  me  no  wanta 
get  off,  but  dey  blinafold  me  and  backa  me  off  a  de  boat." 

At  this  a  laugh  was  heard  from  the  invisible  woman.  Where 
had  he  heard  that  laugh  before? 


WICKED   CITY.  28T 

"I  must  see  that  face!" 

Thus  reflecting  and  thinking  he  had  got  the  woman  interested, 
he  continued : 

"Disa  countara  no  gooda  for  Italian  man.  I  no  lika  it.  Dat's 
why  me  sella  it  cheap  to  getta  de  mon  and  goa  back.  Whata  you 
say  lade,  you  taka  dem?" 

"No,  I  do  not  wish  them.  Come  when  the  master  is  here,  he 
might  wish  them." 

"Yesa,  but  you  no  hava  de  chance  giva  dem  toa  you  for  twenty- 
five  centa.  Me  go  outa  de  biz.  Me  no  lika  de  biz." 

"Well,  why  don't  you  go  into  the  cheese  business?" 

He  gave  a  start  and  withdrew  his  foot.  Was  this  a  chance 
shot  that  was  so  well  aimed  or  was  it  possible  that  she,  whoever 
she  was,  had  penetrated  his  clever  disguise.  The  voice  was  won- 
derfully familiar.  Who  could  it  be?  He  joined  Arlex.  They  made 
up  their  minds  whoever  it  was  she  knew  _  them  well  and  probably 
recognized  something  in  his  voice,  for  their  disguises  were  impen- 
etrable. 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  it  now,  Ro?"  Arlex  asked. 

"Well,  I  think  we  are  up  against  some  of  the  cleverest  people 
in  the  world.  We  can't  land  them  by  any  common  means.  They 
won't  stand  any  old  game,  for  they  are  too  wise.  We  will  have  to 
go  at  them  rough-shod  and  take  chances." 

"Well,  as  long  as  we  have  become  satisfied  that  he  is  off  color, 
we  might  as  well  force  matters  a  little  by  breaking  into  the  house 
and  see  if  we  can  scare  up  any  evidence  against  him.  I  think  that 
we  will  find  that  he  is  in  some  way  connected  with  the  abduction  of 
the  girl  and  is  the  leader  of  a  gang  of  shrewd  crooks,  the  'long 
and  short'  gang  itself.  You  see  how  it  is,  the  crook  we  let  loose 
and  shadowed  went  to  Kit's  house.  Kit  knows  Palmello.  The 
crook  is  a  pal  of  the  companion  of  Gordon's  villainous  brother,  Rob- 
ert, who  abducted  the  girl  and  had  that  running  fight  on  the  high- 
way. Palmello  knew  this  Robert — claims  he  knew  him  in  Cuba — 
and,  mark  my  words,  this  Palmello  knows  where  the  girl  is,  and 
he  is  Gprdonjs  worst  enemy  for  some  reason  too  deep  for  us-  to 
fathom  just  now.  We  could  see  it  in  the  exultant  look  that  flashed 
into  his  face  just  once  as  Gordon  was  lined  up  for  identification  as 
the  'long  man.'  Ah,  I  tell  you  he  is  a  hard  man !  Gordon  is  really 
a  good  fellow.  I  hope  we  can  find  evidence  enough  in  that  house 
to  railroad  Palmello  and  free  his  victim." 

Retaining  their  present  disguise,  they  hung  about  till  the  veiled 
woman  came  down  the  steps.  She  stopped  on  the  corner,  looked 
up  and  down  (presumably  for  a  cab).  There  was  none  in  sight. 
Arlex  shrank  back  in  a  doorway  while  his  companion  approached 
her.  He  accosted  her. 

"Aha,  madame,  I  see  a  you  disa  morn !  Me  tried  to  sella  you 
de  fine  fig.  Me  no  sella  him  yet.  Me  walka  alia  de  day.  Noa  boda 
wants  de  Dona  Caesar  an  de  Dona  Juana.  Me  sella  him  toa  you 
fora  fifteen  centa." 

"I  told  you  this  morning  I  did  not  care  for  them  and  it  seems 


288  WICKED  CITY. 

that  you  ought  to  have  sold  them  before  this  if  you  have  walked  all 
day,  as  you  say." 

"Wella  my  dear  lade,  you  seea  all  of  de  peop  no  wanta  de  Dona 
Juana  or  de  Dona  Caesar.  De  all  wanta  de  fig  of  dea  living  pic- 
tures and  de  fig  of  de  coutchie.  Me  no  carry  dem  kinda  fig.  Me 
too  nice  a  man.  Dey  maka  me  blush  whena  me  showa  dem  to  de 
lade.  Me  no  like  de  big  peop.  Me  like  de  poora  peop.  You  looka 
like  a  gooda  lade.  Wonta  you  buy?  Me  giva  de  fina  fig  for  fifteen 
centa  and  take  him  home  for  you." 

"No,  my  good  fellow,  I  don't  want  your  figures  at  any  price, 
but  if  you  will  run  and  call  that  cab  for  me  I  will  give  you  fifteen 
cents  and  you  can  keep  your  figures  until  you  run  across  a  modest 
woman  that  does  not  care  for  living  pictures  and  coochie-coochie 
dancers." 

The  supposed  Italian  vender  hastened  to  obey.  She  handed 
him  a  twenty-five  cent  piece,  the  smallest  change  she  had,  saying: 

"You  may  keep  the  other  ten  cents  for  the  modesty  which  will 
not  allow  you  to  vend  figures  of  living  pictures.  Your  place,  my 
poor  man,  is  in  heaven,  this  is  purgatory." 

"Purgatora,  youa  say?  Dey  tella  me  de  name  of  disa  town 
was  Chicoga.  Dey  foola  me.  I  go  to  disa  town  youa  calla  heaven. 
You  tella  me  how  to  goa  dere?  Me  goa.  Me  no  lika  dis  purga- 
tora." 

"Well,  my  good  fellow,  I  haven't  time  to  tell  you  how  to  get 
there.  You  go  down  to  the  Dowie's.  They  will  be  delighted  to  show 
you  the  way." 

The  bogus  Italian  was  somewhat  nonplused,  but  continued  to 
carry  out  the  character  he  represented  and  replied : 

"All  right,  me  goa  dare,  you  gooda  lade.  Here  me  give  youa 
de  fina  fig.  Me  taka  dem  home  to  you.  Give  me  your  addressa." 

"No,  I  don't  care  for  them.  Driver,  take  me  to  the  Auditorium. 
When  you  get  there,  run  up  and  see  if  Mrs.  Frost  is  in." 

"All  roit,  mum,"  replied  the  driver. 

The  door  slammed  and  off  rattled  the  cab. 

"I  tell  you  Arlex  they  are  too  smooth,  that  order  to  cabby  was 
to  throw  us  off.  What  goes  with  common  criminals  don't  go  with 
them,  so  we  will  have  to  force  matters  to  an  issue  at  once  or  it 
will  be  all  over  with  Gordon.  Did  you  give  Jarl  the  office  to  fol- 
low her?" 

"Yes,  let's  see,  and  his  partner  is  following  Palmello." 

"That  is  good.     Now  for  the  burglar's  act?" 

They  shot  up  an  alley  and  were  soon  working  at  one  of  the  rear 
windowSj.  It  proved  to  be  well  secured,  but  this  did  not  stop  these 
persistent  men.  They  soon  forced  an  entrance  and  were  hurrying 
from  room  to  room.  They  familiarized  themselves  with  the  whole 
of  the  handsomely  furnished  interior.  Then  they  made  a  careful 
search  of  Palmello's  rooms,  followed  by  every  room  in  the  house, 
but  not  a  clue  did  they  find  and  they  quietly  slipped  out  again 
baffled. 

The  following  morning  at  nine  they  saw  the  same  graceful  fig- 


WICKED  CITY.  289 

tire  coming  along  the  beautiful  boulevard.  They  now  proceeded  to 
carry  out  a  bold  plan.  Rometto  had  discarded  his  modest  figures 
of  Don  Juan  and  Don  Caesar,  but  still  kept  to  his  disguise  of  the 
day  before.  Arlex,  who  had  discarded  his  disguise  altogether,  ap- 
peared around  the  corner  and  pretended  to  put  the  supposed  Italian 
under  arrest.  When  the  veiled  figure  drew  near  enough  Arlex 
jerked  his  supposed  prisoner  along  almost  in  front  of  her.  Then 
there  was  a  struggle  and  the  supposed  vender  cried  at  the  top  of 
his  voice : 

"Me  noa  bada  man.  You  letta  me  go.  Me  noa  do  anyting. 
Me  make  de  mon  sella  de  fig." 

"Oh,  you  never  did  anything  since  you  came  to  this  country! 
Come  on  now,  I'll  send  you  out  to  the  Bridewell." 

"No,  no,  me  noa  go !  Me  make  me  mon  sella  de  fig.  Me  hon- 
esta  man." 

The  veiled  woman  tried  to  pass  them.  As  she  did  the  vender 
applied  to  her,  after  saying  to  Arlex : 

"Youa  no  taka  me.  You  tink  me  no  sella  de  fig,  me  prova  him 
by  de  lade." 

"Oh,  you  never  did  any  work  in  your  worthless  life !  Come  on 
I  say  out  of  the  lady's  way." 

"Me  doa  work.  Dis  a  lade  cana  tella  you.  I  sella  de  fig  and 
maka  de  mon.  Lade  please  tella  di  spolica-man  dat  I  am  a  gooda 
man.  You  knowa  I  cornea  yesterday  to  sella  you  de  fig." 

As  she  tried  to  pass,  she  replied,  "Yes,  he  is  all  right." 

"Dare,  me  tola  you  so.     Me  alia  right.     Me  a  gooda  fell." 

Their  scheme  was  working.  Arlex  now  turned  his  attention  to 
the  woman  and  asked  in  a  gruff  tone : 

"Who  are  you  that  stands  up  for  a  vagrant  and  tries  to  inter- 
fere with  the  law?  Raise  your  veil  that  I  may  see?" 

A  pleasant,  but  slightly  sarcastic  voice  responded: 

"My  clear  sir,  I  am  a  lady  and  I  refuse  to  disclose  my  identity 
or  lift  my  veil.  Neither  will  I  allow  you  to  lift  it  for  me,  as  I  see 
you  would  very  much  desire  to  do." 

"Well,  if  you  are  a  lady,  as  you  say.  why  do  you  wear  such  a 
heavy  veil?" 

Arlex  was  hardly  prepared  for  the  reply  that  came  and  was 
nlmost  knocked  off  his  feet  as  she  sweetly  said : 

"Why,  you  simple  fellow,  don't  you  see  that  I  am  so  sweet  that 
I  am  obliged  to  wear  it  when  I  am  out,  in  order  to  keep  the  bees 
from  sipping  the  honey  from  my  lips?" 

Before  he  could  recover  from  this  sally  Louis  Palmello  joined 
the  strange  group.  He  raised  his  hat  to  the  woman  who  passed  on 
into  the  house.  Then  laughing  and  chatting,  he  accompanied  Arlex 
to  the  patrol  box  and  lingered  while  he  rang  up  the  station  for  the 
wagon.  Something  seemed  to  greatly  amuse  him  when  the  wagon 
came  dashing  up  with  a  clang  and  a  rush.  Arlex  had  to  throw  his 
companion,  the  supposed  vender,  in  with  instructions  to  lock  him 
and  book  him  as  a  vagrant.  It  seemed  that  Palmello  knew  the  offi- 
cer slightly  and,  calling  him  by  name,  inquired  if  he  might  ride 


290  WICKED  CITY. 

down  with  him  as  he  would  like  to  see  how  they  booked  a  prisoner. 
His  wish  was  readily  granted,  and  he,  the  "long  man/'  soon  had  the 
satisfaction  of  seeing  Rometto,  the  detective  and  his  enemy,  locked 
in  a  cell  he  so  justly  deserved  to  occupy  himself — a  place  he  knew 
well  Rometto  and  his  companion  Arlex.  were  trying  to  land 
him.  He  was  greatly  amused  as  he  passed  Ro's  cell.  On  his  way 
out  he  imitated  Ro's  assumed  dialect  and  said : 

"How  does  the  Italian  man  'lika  de  cold  stones  and  de  iron 
bars  to  playa  de  checkers  on  with  de  nose?'" 

"De  checkers?  Ah  mea,  mea  play  a  good  game.  You  playa 
gooda  game  too.  Dis  is  youa  move.  De  next  is  mya  move.  You 
laugh  at  de  poor  Italian  man.  I  playa  gooda  game.  I  beeta  you. 
Den  I  laugh  a  last.  Ah,  you  no  like  dat?  Well,  me  giva  de  fina 
gentleman  de  laugh  lika  dis.  See?" 

Rometto,  the  supposed  vender,  imitated  what  is  commonly  called 
the  horse  laugh.  This  was  the  last  thing  Palmello  heard  as  he 
passed  out.  He  stopped  to  exchange  a  word  with  an  official  and 
when  he  left  the  supposed  Italian  was  at  his  heels  in  a  new  disguise. 


THE  RESCUE.    A  PRISON  WEDDING. 

To  mention  his  name  had  been  all  that  was  necessary  for  Ro- 
metto to  obtain  his  release  from  the  peculiar  predicament  Palmello 
had  forced  him  into  by  accompanying  him  to  the  station.  He  now 
followed  him  into  a  "fan-tan"  joint  kept  by  a  well-known  Chinese 
gambler  called  "Chop  Suey,"  called  thus  for  his  liking  for  that 
dainty  dish.  This  place  was  patronized  by  all  classes.  It  re- 
sembled the  House  of  all  Nations,  the  only  difference  being  in  the 
sex  of  the  frequenters  and  occupants.  Rometto  noticed  that  he 
made  a  signup  a  smooth  faced  man,  almost  a  youth  in  years,  but 
plainly  old  in  crime,  who  soon  after  left  the  building.  Seeing 
Jarl  in  the  crowd  that  hung  around  the  "fan-tan"  and  "stud  tables/' 
he  transferred  his  attention  to  this  new  edition.  The  man  walked 
along  some  distance  halting  near  the  federal  building.  After 
talking  a  few  minutes  with  a  hackman,  he  exchanged  coats,  pinning 
the  cabman's  license  in  a  conspicuous  place,  mounted  the  box  and 
drove  off.  Hiring  another  rig,  Rometto  kept  the  other  in  view 
until  it  at  last  brought  up  in  front  of  Palmello's.  He  seemed  to 
be  waiting  for  some  one,  but  no  one  appeared. 

The  afternoon  passed.  The  driver  only  left  his  post  to  step 
around  the  corner  and  refresh  himself  with  some  lunch.  The  de- 
tective took  advantage  of  this  and  caught  a  snack  of  something  to 
cat  himself.  Shortly  after,  Palmello  entered  the  house,  paying  no 
attention  to  the  cab  whatever;  but  later  he  and  the  veiled  woman 
appeared  and  enetered  the  vehicle  which  was  'soon  rumbling  off. 
Apparently  the  driver  knew  where  he  was  to  go  beforehand.  Some- 
thing was  certainly  on  foot.  Leaving  Jarl  to  watch  the  house,  the 
two  detectives  followed  the  rig  ten  miles  into  the  country  along  the 
old  Sheridan  road,  then  it  turned  and  passed  them  on  its  way  back 


WICKED   CITY  291 

to  the  city.  The  driver  wore  a  broad  grin,  and  they  saw  the  cab 
was  empty.  Sold !  Instead  of  trying  to  stop  the  smiling  driver 
they  cut  off  into  a  side  road,  and  by  hard  driving  were  just  in 
time  to  catch  an  in-going  train.  They  might  foil  their  scheme 
yet,  whatever  it  was.  Securing  a  cab,  they  drove  at  once  toward 
Palmello's  residence.  As  they  were  rolling  along  in  no  pleasant 
frame  of  mind,  a  closed  hack  passed  them  at  full  speed.  A 
smothered  cry,  mingled  with  the  confusion  and  noise  of  the  street, 
faintly  reached  their  ears.  _  The  detectives  quickly  reversed  their 
course  and  gave  chase,  believing  they  were  now  near  their  quest. 
For  miles  they  kept  the  suspicious  looking  rig  in  sight.  Soon  the 
country  road  were  reached  and  they  became  .more  cautious,  allow- 
ing it  to  precede  them  at  some  distance  until  it  at  last  drove  up 
before  a  deserted-looking  farm  house  belted  in  with  unkept  shrubs 
and  trees.  The  driver  descended  and  the  two  eager  detectives  who 
were  now  driving  at  full  speed  saw  two  men  disappear  in  the 
grounds  with  some  object  between  them.  Was  it  Dorris?  They 
were  not  mistaken. 

After  a  desperate  fight  with  two  determined-looking  individu- 
als, who  were  taken  unawares,  they  succeeded  in  gracing  their 
wrists  with  handcuffs.  Then  searching  the  house,  their  suspjcions 
were  verified  by  finding  a  lovely,  but  pale  looking  girl,  a  prisoner 
in  one  of  the  rooms — a  room  seemingly  built  for  the  purpose  for 
which  it  was  now  being  utilized.  She  seemed  to  be  asleep.  They 
tried  to  arose  her.  It  was  useless,  so  they  carried  her  to  the  car- 
riage. 

When  she  did  at  last  lift  the  lashes  that  hid  those  honest 
brown  eyes,  it  was  to  find  herself  in  her  own  little  home.  She 
gazed  at  the  kind  face  of  Doctor  Warder,  the  family  physician, 
then  at  the  happy  but  grief-lined,  tear-stained  face  of  her  poor 
mother — there  was  joy  in  the  little  vine-clad  cottage  once  more. 
She  insisted  on  being  told  of  Gordon's  plight. 

Shortly  after,  although  the  hour  was  late,  the  Waite  carriage 
driven  by  Henry,  who  was  smiling  from  ear  to  ear  from  joy  over 
his  mistress'  return,  drew  up  before  the  gloomy  building  in  which 
Gordon  was  held  prisoner.  Mrs.  Waite  and  Dorris,  weak  and  pale, 
descended  and  were  ushered  in  by  the  two  detectives,  Arlex  and 
Rometto.  They  found  Gordon  still  awake  and  pacing  the  damp 
cell.  The  sight  almost  set  her  wild.  She  cried  out  to  him.  He 
ceased  his  pacing  to  and  fro  and  looked  out  through  the  iron  bars 
with  amazed  "and  incredulous  eyes.  Then  the  cell  was  quickly  un- 
locked by  the  turnkey  and  these  two  true  hearts  were  once  more 
united  in  a  fond  embrace.  The  scene  was  affecting,  and  even  the 
turnkey  felt  an  itching  of  the  forehead  and  cleared  his  throat 
several  times  while  he  jingled  his  keys  with  unusual  vehemence. 
Explanations  were  made  and  given. 

The  detectives  found  Tarl  bound  and  gagged  in  Palmello  s 
grounds.  The  following  day  they  witnessed  the  novelty  of  a  wed- 
ding in  prison.  Dorris  and  Gordon,  although  both  pure  in  mind, 
thought  and  intention,  realized  to  the  fullest  extent  their  apparent 


292  WICKED   CITY. 

unworthiness  of  each  other.  Fate  and  the  clever  scheme  of  a 
scoundrel  had  forced  this  condition  of  affairs;  but  knowing  that 
they  had  not  willingly  sinned,  they  gave  their  hearts  to  one  another 
and  joined  hards  to  breast  the  future,  supported  by  each  others  love. 

They  decided  that  as  soon  as  he  had  gained  his  liberty,  they 
would  leave  for  England. 

The  detectives  now  sent  two  other  men  with  Jarl  to  Sunnyside 
to  guard  them  at  the  cottage.  Palmello  offered  his  services,  but 
they  informed  him  that  it  would  not  be  required. 

Palmello  now  divided  his  time  between  the  jail  and  Ivy  cot- 
tage. In  both  places  he  was  received  as  a  friend.  Gordon,  Dor- 
ris  and  Mrs.  Wnite  suspected  nothing  of  the  truth.  He  seemed  to 
be  doing  everything  in  his  power  to  obtain  Gordon's  release,  and 
they  were  grateful  accordingly. 


THE  TRIAL.     A  BIT  OF  SILK. 

The  day  of  the  trial  arrived.  Hundreds  of  merchants  who  had 
suffered  at  the  hands  of  the  bold  bandits  were  on  hand  to  testify. 
Crowds  of  curious  people  filled  the  large  court-room,  lined  the  stair- 
ways and  swarmed  about  the  entrances.  It  required  and  extra  detail 
of  officers  to  keep  order.  The  overworked  officials,  from  patrolmen 
to  mayor  wore  a  pleased  look  of  relief  believing  for  the  time  that 
their  efforts  had  at  last  been  rewarded  by  the  capture  of  the  leader 
of  the  bold  bandits,  who  was  the  cause  of  the  Wicked  City's  great 
carnival  of  crime.  The  detectives.  Rometto  and  Arlex,  were  also 
on  hand  with  several  witnesses  besides  Giles,  the  lawyer,  and  two 
other  gentlemen  from  London,  who  testified  to  the  previous  good 
character  and  high  standing  of  the  prisoner  in  London.  Then  Arlex, 
Rometto  and  some  others  testified  as  to  his  good  character  as  they 
knew  it  in  Chicago.  They  brought  forward  witnesses  to  prove  an 
alibi.  The  handkerchief  was  the  most  damaging  evidence  against 
him  and  as  it  was  held  in  the  hands  of  the  presiding  attorney,  al- 
most every  eye  in_  the  crowded  court  room  gazed  uoon  it.  so  small 
yet  so  large,  so  insignificant,  yet  so  important.  This  little  bit  of 
silk  might  hang  its  owner.  Indeed,  it  looked  that  way  until  the 
detectives  brought  in  their  last  and  most  important  witness.  It 
was  old  Giles  who  had  travelled  all  the  way  from  London  to  be 
on  hand  to  testify.  Hlaving  never  been  in  a  court  room  before, 
everything  was  strange  to  him.  He  hardly  knew  what  they  wished 
as  they  motioned  him  towards  the  witness  box ;  so  he  passed  by, 
mounted  the  next  platform,  and  blindly  dropped  into  a  seat  beside 
the  judge  himself.  This  caused  a  titter,  and  Giles  formed  a  poor 
opinion  of  America  right  then  and  there:  but  the  next  moment  he 
moderated  ^hat  opinion  for  the  judge  spoke  to  him  in  a  kind  voice 
and  told  him  that  he  had  made  a  mistake,  and  pointed  out  the  wit- 
ness box.  If  they  had  been  inclined  to  laugh  at  the  poor  old  fel- 
low at  the  commencement,  they  were  inclined  to  shout  when  he  had 
finished  giving  his  testimony  about  the  wonderful  clock  being 


WICKED  CITY.  293 

stolen,  and  along  with  it  a  case  and  a  lot  of  handkerchieves  and 
other  things ;  then  of  the  clock  turning  up  here  in  Chicago.  It 
weakened  the  case  against  Gordon  considerably,  for  the  same  thief 
that  stole  the  wonderful  clock  and  linen  might  be  either  the  "long" 
or  "short"  man,  and  had  accidently  dropped  the  handkerchief  while 
holding  up  the  store.  It  was  a  good  point,  and  the  attorney  for 
the  defendant  made  the  most  of  it  in  his  argument  to  the  jury  later. 
Giles  descended  and  took  a  seat  near  the  ladies,  who  were  accom- 
panied by  Palmello. 

Gordon  was  now  put  on  the  stand,  and  states  prosecutor  asked 
him  some  pointed  questions.  These  he  answered  civilly,  but 
shrewdly.  He  closed  by  asking  the  prisoner  where  this  mysterious 
clock  was  at  the  present  time.  Gordon  answered  that  it  was  in 
the  hands  of  his  brother. 

"And  where  is  your  brother?" 

He  did  not  know,  but  thought  he  was  in  Chicago. 

"Are  you  positive  that  this  mysterious  clock  is  not  an  imagin- 
ary clock?  What  you  and  the  witness  before  you  have  testified  to 
regarding  it  seems  all  very  strange.—  kind  of  flowery,  you  know?" 

He  assured  him  that  he  was  telling  nothing  but  the  truth. 

"Why  is  not  your  brother  in  the  court  room?" 

"I  can  answer  no  question  regarding  my  brother." 

As  he  spoke,  he  was  noticed  to  look  in  the  direction  of  Dorris 
and  shudder. 

"That  is  all." 

He  was  escorted  by  two  burly  policemen  to  a  seat.  The  de- 
tectives now  approached  him  and  asked, 

"Can  you  give  us  a  description  of  the  clock?" 

Yes,  he  could  and  did.  Then  they  told  him  of  the  clock  they 
had  at  the  downtown  quarters. 

"It  is  undoubtedly  the  same  one." 

Rometto  and  Arlex  hurried  away,  and  soon  returned  with  it. 
Yes,  it  was  the  clock.  How  did  it  come  in  their  possession?  They 
informed  him  and  offered  it  as  evidence. 

The  jury  were  only  a  short  time,  when  they  filed  in  and  took 
their  seats.  The  detectives  watched  Palmello  like  hawks. 

"We  find  the  prisoner  not  guilty." 

They  saw  Palmello  clinch  his  hands  and  half  jump  to  his  feet, 
but  he  quickly  recovered  himself,  and  was  almost  the  first  one  at 
the  late  prisoner's  side  to  congratulate  him.  Then  came  Dorris 
and  Mrs.  Waite  and  the  others.  As  they  all  crowded  around,  with 
tears  in  their  eyes,  they  were  startled  and  pleased  by  hearing  the 
beautiful  chimes  of  the  clock,  as  if  it  were,  like  the  rest,  welcoming 
him  back  to  freedom.  It  was  a  happy  party  which  later  on  gathered 
around  the  long  extertion  table  at  Ivy  cottage  and  listened  to  the 
lawyer's  light  talk.  Palmello  seemed  the  most  delighted  of  all  at 
the  turn  of  affairs.  No  subject  of  a  serious  nature  was  brought 
up  and  everything  was  serene.  But  the  detectives  were  on  their 
guard.  They  saw  deviltry  in  the  air. 

The  bride  and  groom  had  decided  to  start  for  England  the 


294  WICKED  CITY. 

following  morning  and  take  Mrs.  Waite  and  her  two  servants  with 
them,  but  Henry's  face  fell  when  they  told  him  he  was  to  go  to 
London  to  live.  He  did  not  seem  pleased  at  the  idea  of  leaving 
America,  so  they  told  him  he  might  stay  and  look  after  the  cottage. 
Gordon  gave  him  a  hundred  dollar  bill. 

"Good  land,  massa,  it'd  take  me  all  summer  to  spent  dat !" 
"Well,  it  will  hardly  take- you  that  long  to  spend  it,  if  you  get 
the  'dice  heated  up'  like  I  saw  you  once  when  we  were  looking  for 
Dprris'   abductors.     Well,   shoot   craps   and   do  anything  you   like 
with  it  and  when  you  need  more,  send  to  me." 

He  also  gave  Jarl's  bowery  chum  a  nice  present  of  money  and 
thanked  them  all  for  their  faithfulness  to  him  while  in  his  great 
trouble.  Leaving  the  lawyer  with  his  companions  from  England 
and  the  detective  to  guard  against  what  might  happen,  he  hunted 
up  Jarl  and  left  for  the  citv's  center  to  pack  and  once  more  prepare 
to  depart  for  home.  Palmello  had  accompanied  them,  but  left  soon 
after  arriving,  saying  he  would  be  on  hand  to  bid  them  good-bye 
and  Godspeed  the  following  morning.  The  lawyer  had  insisted 
that  the  clock  should  be  taken  back  to  England  as  he  was  in  a 
certain  degree  responsible  for  it  until  it  gave  up  its  second  and  last 
secret.  So  this^  strange  clock,  which  seemed  bound  to  plav  such  a 
prominent  part  in  their  lives,  was  packed  with  the  rest  of  the  things. 
This  packing  took  some  time,  and  it  was  late  when  they  returned 
to  Sunnyside.  As  they  came  in  sight  of  Ivy  cottage,  a  clock  in  the 
distance  tolled  off  the  hour — twelve — midnight. 

MOUNTED  BANDITS.    CALL  ONLY  A  WAGON  FROM  THE 
MORGUE.    MANDATE  OF  THE  CHIEF. 

They  knew  that  the  two  detectives  were  in  the  house  on  watch, 
and  with  them  was  the  bowery  boy,  Jimmie,  Henry,  Giles,  the 
lawyer  and  his  two  friends.  Certainly  no  harm  could  come  to  his 
love  with  a  guard  like  this.  Still  he  felt  a  foreboding  of  evil.  He 
quickened  his  pace,  making  Jarl  almost  run  to  keep  up  with  him. 
They  were  about  to  turn  into  the  bit  of  woods  to  make  a  short  cut 
to  the  house,  when  they  heard  the  galloping  of  horses  in  the  rear. 
Pressing  back  among  the  bushes,  they  waited.  Soon  a  body  of  five 
horsemen  appeared  and  drew  rein  near  by.  He  clutched  Jarl's 
arm. 

"Great  God  !  It  is  my  fiendish  brother !  Look  at  his  face !  It  is 
like  a  death  head." 

Indeed  the  face  looked  ghostly  and  peculiar  in  the  bright  moon- 
light. They  listened  as  the  other  figures  gathered  around  their 
leader  and  began  to  converse  in  low  tones,  not  so  low  but  that 
they  reached  the  ears  of  the  silent  watchers. 

^  "Number  "2,"  you   and   I   will  present  ourselves  at  the  front 
while  numbers  "3,"  "4,"  and  "5"  cover  the  rear.     Now  remember, 

the  girl  and  Gordon  are  not  to  be  injured,  for  I  want  one  for  h 

and  the  other  for  heaven." 


WICKED  CITY.  295 

Only  too  well  Gordon  understood  what  this  meant.  But  this 
should  not  be.  He  would  sooner  end  Dorris'  life  with  his  own  hand. 
The  commanding  voice  of  the  leader  rang  sharp  and  quick  on  his 
ear. 

"If  you  get  a  chance,  just  make  cold  meat  of  those  two  detec- 
tives. They  are  getting  too  soon  to  suit  me." 

"All  right,  captin,  we'll  shorten  em  up  a  little  ef  we  get  a 
chance." 

"Now  there  is  one  more  thing.  Don't  put  yourself  in  the  way 
of  a  bullet  if  you  can  help  it.  It  is  unhealthy  work  to  try  and 
stop  them.  Remember,  if  we  don't  get  them  to-night,  we  will  get 
them  at  the  station  in  the  morning.  It  is  a  cinch.  They  can't  get 
away  from  us.  Remember,  now,  'croak  the  elbows'  if  you  can, 
but  by  no  means  kill  Gordon.  He  must  have  gotten  back  long 
before  this,  and  I  want  him  alive.  We  will  wait  till  number  "6" 
comes  up  with  the  rig,  and  then  to  business,  and  look  to  yourselves. 
Don't  go  to  sleep,  but  keep  your  lamps  peeled.  It's  better  to  dodge 
a  bullet  than  to  stop  it." 

"All  right,  captin.  We  appreciate  the  compliment.  Ye  tinks 
we're  too  good  t'  lose." 

"Well,  you  fellows  are  all  right  in  your  way,  but  you  will  weigh 
an  ounce  too  much  if  one  of  those  flybobs  gets  a  shot  at  you." 

Gordon  and  Jarl  were  afraid  to  move.  They  heard  the  roll 
of  a  carriage  and  the  horsemen  turned  seemingly  to  meet  it.  Now 
was  their  opportunity,  they  acted  quickly.  Giving  Jarl  instructions 
to  run  and  awaken  all  the  neighbors  in  the  immediate  vicinity, 
he  made  a  detour  to  the  summer  house.  There,  screened  from 
view  of  the  bandits  by  the  arbor  which  led  to  the  house,  he  was 
soon  inside,  relating  what  he  saw  and  heard  to  the  detectives  who 
were  wide-awake  and  on  guard  expecting  trouble. 

Hearing  a  noise  on  the  highway,  Rometto  glanced  out.  He 
saw  a  band  of  five  horsemen,  all  determined  looking  fellows.  They 
came  cantering  up  and  surrounded  the  house.  The  face  of  the 
leader  was  similar  in  outline  to  their  friend  Gordon's,  but  it  was 
white  and  seemingly  bloodless.  It  looked  weird  and  ghostly  in  the 
moonlight. 

"Well,  that  knocks  our  theory  that  Palmello  is  the  'long  man'," 
he  whispered  to  Arlex. 

Arlex  peeped  out  from  behind  the  curtain. 

"Yes,  so  it  does,  that  fellow  with  the  pimply  face  is  the  notori- 
ous 'short  man,'  a  man  that  can  swear  more  in  a  minute  than  a 
preacher  can  pray  in  a  month.  They  are  a  hard  gang  and  we  have 
got  fighting  to  do,  if  we  prevent  them  from  getting  what  they 
came  for,  and  if  we  capture  them,  which  we  shall  certainly  attempt, 
we  will  have  to  call  up  the  wagon  from  the  morgue  as  the  chief 
ordered." 

"Well,  we  will  give  them  a  whirl.  Just  touch  Henry  up  over 
there." 

Henry,  who  was  snoring  on  a  lounge  in  the  corner,  was  soon 


296  WICKED   CITY. 

on  his  feet,  rubbing  his  eyes  as  he  gazed  out  at  the  two  men  in 
front. 

"Dat  air  man  with  the  white  face  is  de  one  dat  carried  Miss 
Dorris  oft" 

The  rest  were  now  aroused. 

"Have  you  a  cellar  under  your  house?"  Rometto  inquired  of 
the  ladies,  who  appeared,  hastily  dressed  in  their  slippers  and  robes, 
greatly  excited. 

"Yes,"  they  replied. 

"Is  it  warm  and  dry?" 

"Yes,  indeed." 

"Well,  ladies,  go  down  there  out  of  the  way  of  a  chance  bul- 
let, and  we  will  have  a  talk  with  these  gentlemen  callers  of  yours 
and  see  if  we  cannot  persuade  them  that  this  is  not  a  proper  calling 
hour." 

Dorris  insisted  on  staying  above  and  even  showed  a  tiny  pistol 
but  they  forced  them  both  to  go  below  with  their  maid.  They  were 
hardly  out  of  the  way  when  the  leader  rapped  on  the  door  with  the 
butt  of  his  riding  whip.  Rometto  and  Arlex  clutched  their  weapons 
and  were  about  to  open  it  and  confront  the  bandits,  when  Gordon 
stopped  them. 

"Do  not  open  the  door  yet.  Parley  with  them,  if  you  can,  until 
Jarl  gathers  the  men  of  the  neighborhood.  In  my  excitement  I  had 
forgotten  to  tell  you  of  this." 

"Well,  possibly  for  the  ladies'  sake  it  would  be  better  to 
wait  a  few  minuites,  but  we  must  not  lose  this  opportunity  to  cap- 
ture them  and  we  intend  to  do  it,  dead  or  alive.  We  have  orders 
to  kill  them  on  sight,  and  that  is  what  we  will  have  to  do,  if  Jarl 
does  not_  gather  up  a  force  large  enough  to  assist  us." 

Again  the  rap  was  repeated,  louder  and  more  imperative. 

"Well,  kill  the  others,  if  you  wish,  and  I'll  help  you,  but  do 
not  kill  the  leader.  He — " 

This  sentence  was  cut  short  by  a  fierce  rapping  and  a  voice, 
familiar  to  all  in  the  room,  ordered  them  to  open.  Rometto  inquired 
who  it  was  and  what  they  wished. 

"Well,  my  name  is  Bob  Long,  and  I  want  my  wife,  Dorris 
Long." 

"You  have  no  wife  here." 

"Well,  I  won't  have  one  here  long,  for  I  have  come  to  take  her 
away.  Will  you  give  her  up  without  a  fight,  or  do  you  want  us  to 
start  a  circus?  We  mean  business.  We  have  come  for  her  and  are 
not  going  back  without  her." 

"The  lady  you  call  your  wife  is  not  here." 

"Well,  we  will  just  come  in  and  take  a  look  around,  anyway." 

"How  are  you  going  to  get  in,  if  we  decide  not  to  let  you  in?" 

"We  will  break  your  door  in,  then  break  your  head  in." 

"Well,  go  ahead  with  the  circus,  for  we  won't  let  you  in  just 
yet." 

If  you  don't  open  up  and  deliver  up,  we  will  ride  through  the 
house,  get  what  we  want  and  then  burn  it  over  you." 


WICKED   CITY.  397 

The  dare-devil  speaker  chirped  to  his  horse,  a  spirited  animal, 
who  shot  around  the  house  out  of  sight.  The  pimply-faced  bandit 
slipped  to  the  off  side  of  his  horse,  a  position  which  sheltered  him 
from  a  chance  bullet.  The  Englishmen,  who  had  been  stationed 
to  watch  the  rear  and  sides  of  the  house  with  orders  to  shoot  down 
the  first  man  that  crossed  _the  threshold,  thought  this  was  a  sample 
of  everyday  life  in  America,  and  tried  to  appear  brave  and  calm 
accordingly.  So  when  they  saw  the  white-faced  leader  of  the  ban- 
dits swing  around  the  corner,  they  were  prepared  to  use  the  weap- 
ons shoved  into  their  hands  (articles  they  probably  held  for  the 
first  time  in  their  lives).  They  saw  the  leader  suddenly  stop  near 
the  rear,  then  jerking  his  steed  onto  its  haunches,  backed  him  as 
soon  as  his  forefeet  again  touched  the  ground.  He  had  dexterously 
brought  the  whole  weight  of  the  horse  suddenly  against  the  door. 
It  gave  way  with  a  crash,  shaking  the  whole  building.  Clearing  the 
saddle,  he  darted  inside,  closely  followed  by  two  others,  leaving 
one  to  hold  the  animals.  It  was  swiftly  and  cleverly  done.  They 
had  all  gained  an  entrance  before  the  Englishmen  could  recover 
from  their  surprise.  But  on  hearing  a  report  from  Red's  pistol, 
followed  by  one  from  Arlex  and  Rometto,  it  put  them  in  mind  of 
the  weapons  in  their  own  hands.  Then,  shooting  right  and  left  in  the 
darkness,  they  soon  emptied  their  pistols.  Gordon  and  Arlex 
guarded  the  cellar  door,  while  Rometto  was  kept  busy  exchanging 
shots  with  Red  on  the  outside.  It  was  so  dark  on  the  inside  that  it 
was  impossible  to  distinguish  friend  from  foe.  This  is  what  the 
robbers  had  calculated  upon.  They  quickly  went  through  the  lower 
chambers,  and  then  to  the  upper  ones  in  one  of  which  they  supposed 
Dorris  was  to  be  found.  Gordon  and  Arlex  were  not  positive 
whether  it  was  the  Englishmen  or  the  bandits,  therefore^they  quickly 
barricaded  the  door  with  anything  they  could  get  their  hands  on. 
Whoever  it  was,  they  had  them  prisoners.  Amid  the  thud  of  bullets, 
cracking  of  vases  and  shattering  of  glass,  they  had  heard  a  cry  and 
moan.  Some  one  must  have  been  wounded.  Leaving  Gordon  to 
guard  the  ladies,  Arlex  went  to  the  rear.  A  revolver  was  shoved 
into  his  face  and  the  hammer  fell,  but  it  was  empty.  To  this  fact 
he  owed  his  life.  It  was  one  of  the  Englishmen.  Seeing  this,  he 
spoke  and  gathered  the  rest  together  and  reloaded  their  weapons. 
One  was  wounded,  how  badly  they  could  not  tell.  This  had  all 
happened  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  relate.  They  now  heard  a 
shrill  whistle  from  Red  who  was  lying  behind  his  dead  horse.  There 
was  a  rush  down  stairs  by  the  bandits.  This  was  a  signal  of  danger, 
the  signal  to  make  their  "get-away."  The  weight  of  these  desperate 
men  was  hurled  against  the  door,  but  it  refused  to  give.  They 
had  no  horse  to  back  through  it  this  time.  Rometto  now  joined  the 
others  as  he  supposed  Red  was  dead  behind  his  slain  steed.  The 
detective  raised  his  voice  above  the  din  and  commanded  them  to 
surrender.  The  only  reply  to  this  was  a  curse  and  a  laugh,  followed 
by  three  or  four  shots,  the  bullets  tearing  their  way  through  the 
door.  One  lodged  with  spent  force  in  the  shoulder  of  Rometto. 
The  detectives  now  made  up  their  minds  to  show  no  mercy  but  kill 


298  WICKED   CITY. 

them  all  like  rats  in  a  trap.  They  poured  volley  after  volley 
through  the  door.  Then  there  was  a  scampering  up  the  stairs. 
Again  that  piercing  whistle  was  heard.  Red,  uninjured,  with  the 
exception  of  a  slight  flesh  wound,  had  crept  put  from  behind  the 
horse  and  made  his  way  around  the  house  and  joined  his  companion 
who  had  charge  of  the  other  animals. 

"Say,  pal,  my  horse  is  dead,  and  there  is  a  whole  army  comin 
down  de  road.  We've  got  t'  stir  up  de  boys  an  blow." 

The  two  outlaws  now  mounted  and  leading  the  other  two 
horses,  skirted  the  summer  house,  halting  in  the  shadows  cast  by 
some  large  oaks.  Again  Red  blew  the  warning  whistle.  What  was 
the  matter?  Were  they  dead?  No,  there  they  were.  They  saw 
three  forms  spring  from  as  many  different  windows  onto  the  roof 
of  the  veranda. 

Men  could  now  be  seen  coming  from  all  directions.  Jarl  was 
just  entering  the  grounds  puffing  and  blowing,  with  two  large 
revolvers  in  his  hands,  but  he  was  just  a  little  too  late,  as  were 
the  rest.  Red  had  taken  in  the  situation  at  a  glance  and  was 
galloping  with  his  pal  and  the  lead  animals  alongside  the  veranda. 
Like  the  trained  athletes  these  bandits  were,  they  dropped  down  on 
the  horses  and  were  off  like  a  shot,  Red's  new  steed  carrying  a 
double  load  until  they  reached  the  waiting  rig.  Then  it  was  light- 
ened to  one. 

The  detectives  emerged  from  the  house  just  in  time  to  catch 
a  glimpse  of  them  as  they  disappeared  among  the  trees.  A  number 
of  neighbors  had  assembled,  two  or  three  with  horses.  Jumping 
on  these,  Rometto  and  Arlex  set  off  in  pursuit.  An  hour  later, 
after  a  hard  ride  and  a  bitter  fight,  they  returned  with  the  two 
that  had  tried  to  escape  in  the  carriage.  It  was  numbers  "5" 
and  "6"  of  the  "Wit  Club."  One  was  dead  and  the  other  wounded. 
The  living  robber  was  handcued  to  the  dead  one.  ^This  sight 
almost  upset  the  honest  folk  that  had  gathered.  When  it  was  over 
and  the  firing  had  ceased,  Gordon  and  the  lawyer  found  Dorris  and 
the  serving  woman  with  white  faces,  working  over  Mrs.  Waite 
who  had  fainted.  They  immediately  sent  for  Dr.  Warder  and  for 
the  next  two  hours  the  pretty  house  was  turned  into  a  regular 
hospital.  _  The  doctor,  after  dressing  the  wounds  and  reviving 
the  fainting,  talked  quite  earnestly  with  the  detectives  and  Gordon, 
advising  them  to  take  the  ladies  from  the  scene  of  the  late  trouble 
at  once.  The  consequence  was  that  the  whole  party  was  speeding 
on  its  way  to  New  York  City,  bound  for  England,  before  the  shad- 
ows of  the  night  had  lifted. 

The  Englishman's  wound  proved  of  trivial  importance,  and  the 
ladies  were  much  improved  by  the  change.  The  excitement  of 
travel  and  the  sea  breezes  were  very  beneficial  to  all  who  had  passed 
through  such  harassing  scenes — scenes  that  had  left  Dorris'  face  as 
sad  as  it  was  sweet.  Mrs.  Waite  was  the  saddest  of  all,  but  she 
found  great  comfort  in  prayer.  They  all  three  were,  in  spite  of 
sad  looks,  quite  happy  in  the  love  they  bore  one  another. 


WICKED   CITY.  299 

IN  LONDON. 

Once  settled  in  her  English  home,  Dorris  brightened  up  a 
great  deal,  and  began  to  take  an  interest  in  the  many  society  people 
who  had  so  readily  and  immediately  interested  themselves  in  the 
lovely  but  sad-faced  American  girl. 

Meantime  the  holdup  series  were  continued.  The  bandits 
defied  the  police  and  terrorized  the  city,  to  the  surprise  of  the 
officials  and  the  merchants,  who  thought  they  had  ceased  operations. 
They  now  committed  deeds  so  daring  and  novel  as  to  cause  the 
whole  country  to  stare  and  wonder.  The  fame  of  the  "long  and 
short"  bandits  reached  every  city  and  hamlet,  from  the  rock-bound 
coast  of  Maine  to  the  Golden  Gate  of  California,  from  the  dreary 
North  to  the  sunny  South.  Their  capture  was,  of  course,  expected 
every  day,  as  it  had  been  for  months  past.  Still  the  outlaws  robbed 
on,  and  the  police  worked  on.  In  the  history  of  the  world,  for 
generations  back,  there  never  was  a  time  that  a  body  of  brave  and 
true  _  men  were  force  to  such  extremes.  It  seemed  strange  to  the 
public  that  the  "long  and  short"  men  could  commit  such  bold  deeds 
and  escape  capture,  while  thousands  of  police  were  on  the  watch 
with  weapons  ready  at  hand,  and  an  order  from  their  overworked 
pnd  harassed  chief  was  to  call  only  the  wagon  from  the  morgue  if 
they  were  found.  Still,  such  was  the  case.  But  when  hundreds  of 
citizens  have  corroborated  with  each  other  in  their  description  of 
the  "long  and  short"  men,  (as  ore  being  white  faced  and  ghostly 
looking,  and  the  other  with  a  red  face  covered  with  a  score  of 
pimples)  how  could  they  expect  the  police  to  dish  them  up^to  their 
anxious  gaze  in  the  form  of  the  dark  faced  Spanish-looking  gen- 
tleman, who  was  on  intimate  terms  with  the  best  people  of  Chicago, 
(the  people  who  were  looking  for  his  capture)  or  the  spooky  look- 
ing individual  who  could  be  seen  most  any  day  on  the  levee,  with- 
out a  blotch  on  his  smooth  shaven  visage?  Even  Rometto  and 
Arlex,  after  being  so  near  the  real  truth,  were  forced  to  give  up 
the  theory  of  Palmello' s  being  the  "long  man,"  for  they  had  seen 
the  "long  and  short"  men  at  close  range.  He  could  not  work  such  a 
complete  change.  Their  suspicions  of  him  were  unfounded,  and 
they,  like  the  rest  of  the  force;  were  obliged  to  drop  back  into  the 
old  rut  and  gallop  over  the  city  with  the  others,  on  their  endless 
and  useless  hunt  for  a  pimply  face  and  a  pale  face.  Hundreds  were 
found  and  locked  up  as  "suspects"  but  still  the  robberies  and  bold 
holdups  went  on.  They  failed  to  see  the  veiled  woman  again,  and 
later  on,  when  Palmello  bade  his  many  friends  good-bye,  expressing 
his  intentions  of  visiting  London,  they  thought^  nothing  strange  of 
it.  But  strange  to  say,  the  holdups  were  again  suddenly  discon- 
tinued, and  as  before,  the  last  merchants  held  up,  Stein  &  Co., 
were  informed  by  the  humorous  two  that  this  was  the  "long  and 
short"  of  it ;  and  as  they  were  a  little  short,  they  would  shorten 
up  the  cash  box. 

Palmello  had  only  given  up  one  amusement  (as  he  called  it) 
to  take  up  another  more  amusing.  In  fact,  he  had  given  up,  for  the 


300  WICKED  CITY. 

time  being,  his  bloody  work  in  Chicago,  to  take  up  with  something 
more  fiendish  in  London.  He  was  about  to  carry  out  a  plan  that 
would  fully  satisfy  his  craving  for  revenge  upon  Gordon  and  his 
unholy  passion  for  his  beautiful  wife.  His  intended  victims,  all 
unconscious  of  the  terrible  trials  again  in  store  for  them,  welcomed 
the  arch  fiend  with  open  arms  and  he  was  soon  a  well-known  figure 
in  the  society  circle  in  which  his  prey  moved.  He  worked  his  way 
into  the  good  graces  of  all  by  his  pleasant  manner  and  fine  appear- 
ance. With  plenty  of  money  (the  profits  from  the  carnival  of  crime 
that  had  so  lately  struck  the  great  American  city)  he  was  soon  in 
touch  with  some  of  the  best  people  of  London,  and  a  member  of  the 
same  fashionable  club  where,  some  years  back,  he  had  stained  the 
rich  carpets  with  the  blood  of  one  of  its  most  prominent  members. 
He  was  introduced  to  many  he  had  known  in  his  college  days, 
when  he  was  devoid  of  sin  (his  character  then  being  as  white  as  the 
paper  beneath  these  lines.  But,  ah!  what  had  he  degenerated  to? 
It  was  easy  to  see  what,  as  he  entered  the  low  "boozing  ken"  kept 
by  "Butch,"  his  early  accomplice  in  crime). 

He  wore  a  cloak  and  soft  hat  for  the  occasion,  not  wishing 
any  of  his  new  acquaintances  to  recognize  him.  The  same  motley 
throng  of  booze  grafters  was  hanging  about.  Some  thought  the 
new  comer  was  a  detective,  and  one  or  two  edged  out  and  shot 
down  the  street.  Among  those  inside  was  "Happy  Sal"  with  a 
new  "side  partner"  who  on  the  contrary  was  called  "Cranky  Ann," 
a  former  partner  of  the  well-known  London  character  called  "Moll 
Cutpurse."  These  two  immediately  intercepted  him  as  he  was  mak- 
ing for  the  little  back  room,  but  he  immediately  sent  them  scurrying 
back  to  their  seats  with  these  few  curt  words  in  the  crook  dialect : 

"Get  next  to  yourself  now  and  'blow.'  You're  on  a  dead  one. 
Your  lamps  must  need  trimming  if  they  are  so  dim  as  to  pick  me 
out  a  'live  one.' " 

Without  a  word,  they  reseated  themselves,  somewhat  taken 
back  by  their  mistake. 

Palmello  passed  on  and  was  soon  engaged  in  a  low  conversa- 
tion with  the  villianous  "Butch.'^  When  he^  at  last  left,  it  was  with 
a  smile  on  his  face,  and  a  fiendish  glitter  in  his  eye.  A  new  plot 
had  been  hatched. 


Gordon  ever  since  the  awful  experience  in  Chicago  had  been 
in  the  habit  of  taking  long  walks  by  himself.  He  tried  to  forget  as 
did  Dorris,  but  neither  could  fully  shake  off  a  certain  feeling 
of  depression  that  would  sometimes  creep  in  and  interrupt  their 
happiness.  This  peculiar  feeling  forced  itself  on  him  today,  while 
lying  in  the  hammock  under  a  shady  tree  of  the  beautiful  grounds. 

Dorris  and  Palmello  were  sitting  not  far  away,  watching  Toots, 
who  could  boast  of  a  trip  across  the  great  pond  and  seemed  more 
jealous  than  ever  since  his  mistress  came  back.  He  was  now  all 
alone  in  her  regard  for  Bonny  Bess  and  the  little  robins  were  left 


WICKED  CITY.  301 

far  behind.  The  sagacious  dog  seemed  almost  human  in  his  realiza- 
tion of  this. 

Rising,  Gordon  called  to  Giles  to  bring  his  coat  and  cane.  He 
soon  appeared  with  them  and  feebly  attempted  to  assist  his  master 
into  the  coat.  But  Palmello,  apparently  out  of  kindness,  took  it 
from  his  hands  and  assisted  Gordon  to  don  it.  While  doing  so,  he, 
with  the  cleverness  of  a  professional,  abstracted  all  the  letters  and 
papers  which  might  serve  to  identify  him.  They  knew  of  old  his 
habit  of  taking  his  lonely  walks,  so  there  was  no  comment.  Regard- 
less of  Palmello's  presence,  whom  they  considered  almost  one  of  the 
family,  he  drew  his  young  wife  to  his  breast  in  which  there  beat  a 
heart  of  gold,  full  of  love  for  her.  Lifting  her  chin,  he  looked  long 
and  earnestly  into  the  pretty  brown  eyes;  then  bending  his  manly 
head,  he  pressed  a  good-bye  kiss  on  the  sweet  mouth,  the  last  he 
was  to  give  for  many  a  day.  Waving  his  hand  to  Mrs.  Waite,  who 
could  be  seen  at  the  window,  he  left  for  his  usual  stroll — to  his 
doom. 

The  sun  was  just  setting  as  they  joined  Mrs.  Waite  in  the  hand- 
somely furnished  sitting  room,  where  the  beautiful  clock  was  faith- 
fully working  away  in  its  old  place  on  the  mantle.  Time  passed. 
It  struck  eight.  Gordon  should  have  returned  long  ago.  Dorris 
looked  at  the  time  and  then  at  Palmello  with  questioning  and  anx- 
ious eyes.  She  did  not  dare  speak  before  her  mother  regarding 
his  unusually  long  absence,  for  she  knew  it  would  greatly  worry  and 
excite  her,  as  she  was  still  very  nervous  and  weak.  Mrs.  Waite 
soon  retired  to  her  room.  Hardly  was  she  out  of  hearing  when 
Dorris  sprang  to  her  feet  and  exclaimed: 

"Oh,  Mr.  Palmello,  I  feel  that  something  has  happened  to  my 
husband !  He  never  stayed  away  so  late  without  sending  word." 

"If  he  does  not  return  soon,  I  will  go  on  a  hunt  for  him,"  Pal- 
mello replied. 

The  beautiful  chimes  tolled  off  another  hour,  but  still  he  did 
not  come.  Dorris  was  becoming  really  frightened.  She  looked  with 
pleading  eyes  at  Palmello,  who  arose  with  apparent  concern  and 
prepared  to  depart  in  quest  of  him  as  she  supposed. 

"Before  I  leave,  allow  me  to  order  you  a  glass  of  wine.  You 
look  faint." 

"No,  thank  you." 

"A  glass  of  water,  then?" 

"Well,  a  glass  of  water,  if  you  will  be  so  kind." 

He  was  so  kind,  and  even  so  kind  as  to  take  it  from  Giles' 
hand  at  the  dining  room  door,  telling  him  it  would  save  him  a  few 
steps  in  his  old  age.  This  strange  man  seemed  to  play  with  the 
world,  juggle  with  the  people  in  it,  and  manipulate  matters  so^  dex- 
terously as  to  bring  about  almost  any  condition  of  affairs  he  wished. 

"Now  then,  Mrs.  Long,  drink  this  and  retire.  I  will  soon  send 
Gordon  to  you.  He  has  probably  met  a  friend  or  two  more  than 
usual." 

With  this  assurance,  which   had   double  meaning,  he   was  off. 


802  WICKED  CITY. 

Partaking  of  the  water,  she  first  visited  Gordon's  rooms,  then 
retired  to  her  own  and  donned  a  loose  wrapper,  after  which  she  sat 
down  to  wait.  She  soon  began  to  feel  drowsy.  It  was  all  she 
could  do  to  keep  her  lids  from  closing  over  her  anxious  eyes  in 
sleep.  The  wind  was  whistling  around  the  corners  of  the  mansion 
with  a  kind  of  droning,  dreary  sound. 

"It  must  be  this,"  she  thought,  for  it  put  her  in  mind  of  the 
two  large  pines  in  her  American  home,  the  pines  she  was  born  and 
brought  up  beside.  But  listen!  There  was  a  step  on  the  stair.  A 
glad  light  appeared  in  her  eyes  which  chased  away  the  dullness  for 
a  moment. 

"My  husband !     Ah,  my  dear  Gordon,  at  last." 

She  tried  to  rise,  but  as  soon  as  the  strain  on  her  mind  (due 
to  her  husband's  absence)  was  released,  the  drug  Palmello  had  given 
her  in  the  glass  of  water  now  held  her  chained,  a  prisoner — a  pris- 
oner to  his  will.  As  this  strange  villain  crossed  the  threshold  and 
polluted  the  room  he  had  as  a  boy  made  merry  with  his  joyous 
shouts,  he  found  her  as  he  expected,  unconscious  and  completely 
tinder  the  influence  of  the  wonderful  drug. 

A  CRUEL  FATE.    NUMBER  "49' S"   DOUBLE. 

The  wind  that  whistled  and  moaned  around  the  mansion  on  that 
never-to-be-forgotten  night  also  sped  on  and  tore  around  the  high 
walls  of  the  gloomy  looking  prison  from  -which  number  "49"  had  so 
cleverly  escaped.  Gordon,  the  absent  husband,  heard  it  with  a 
shudder.  He  was  there  a  prisoner,  a  victim  of  Robert's  clever 
scheme,  assisted  by  "Butch." 

For  many  days  Gordon's  merciless  guard  made  his  life  a  liv- 
ing hell,  under  the  mistaken  impression  that  he  was  venting  his 
pent-up  spite  on  his  old  enemy,  number  "49,"  Gordon's  degenerate 
half-brother.  He  would  keep  him  at  the  crank  until  he  would  fall 
from  exhaustion.  Then  he  would  brutally  kick  him  into  life  again. 
He  often  used  his  victim's  pale  and  bloodless  face  for  a  cuspidor, 
often  knocking  him  down  with  his  brawny  fist  if  he  objected,  as  he 
generally  did.  Gordon  reneatedly  asked  to  see  the  Governor,  but 
this  privilege  was  denied  him.  so  he  suffered  on,  the  victim  of  his 
brother's  duplicity  and  vengeance. 

The  suspicion  of  this  caused  him  untold  agony,  for  if  it  were 
so,  might  not  Dorris  also  be  in  his  power  as  before?  The  thought 
was  horrible,  but  he  forced  it  from  his  mind  as  much  as  possible 
in  order  to  keen  him  from  going  mad.  The  predicament  that  his 
unprincipled  brother's  ingenuity  had  forced  him  into  in  an  American 
prison,  had  not  been  so  trying  as  this,  as  he  met  with  kindness  by 
the  officials.  Here  his  brutal. and  vindictive  guard  would  not  allow 
him  the  slightest  communication  with  the  outside  world,  until  one 
day,  a  card  was  brousrht  to  him  by  the  guard  with  the  broken  nose, 
under  which  was  a  diabolical  grin.  The  peculiar  message  written  on 
it  seemed  to  tickle  him  greatly,  although  he  did  not  understand  it. 
Poor  Gordon  received  it  with  eager  fingers,  which  trembled  as  they 


WICKED  CITY.  303 

turned  it  over,  thinking  deliverance  was  at  hand ;  but  instead  what 
he  read  caused  him  to  cry  put  in  despair.  His  worst  suspicions 
were  verified,  even  Dorris  might  be  at  his  mercy ! 

"Do  you  hear  the  bells  jingling  on  the  jesters  cap?" 

For  the  first  time  in  his  life  a  curse  fell  from  his  white  lips, 
which  caused  the  grin  on  the  guard's  ugly  features  to  turn  into  a 
harsh  laugh.  Noticing  this,  Gordon  cursed  the  sender  and  the 
bearer  as  he  swaggered  off  down  the  corridor.  Gordon  had  noticed 
a  hack  below  on  the  street,  also  that  the  driver  often  looked  up 
at  the  little  grated  window  with  something  more  than  common  in- 
terest. Why  did  he  look  at  this  particular  window  so  often?  -Could 
he  be  a  friend?  Did  he  know  of  his  predicament?  In  the  cell  he 
found  some  fine  scraps  of  ruled  writing  paper,  remnants  left  by  the 
original  number  "49." 

"If  I  only  had  a  pin,  I  could  prick  a  message  on  a  piece  of 
paper  and  drop  it  down  to  the  hackman." 

But  a  pin  was  not  to  be  found.  Tearing  off  a  strip  of  his  nail 
with  his  sharp  teeth,  he  managed  to  prick  a  short  message,  the  num- 
ber of  his  residence  and  name.  Dropping  this  as  soon  as  he  caught 
the  hackman  looking  up,  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  his  eyes 
follow  it  as  it  fluttered  zig-zag  fashion  to  the  ground  near  him. 
Then  descending  from  his  high  perch,  he  picked  it  up  and  read  it 
as  he  slowly  returned  to  his  rig.  But  what  was  Gordon's  surprise 
and  disappointment  when  he  saw  him  turn  full  around  and  shake 
one  clenched  hand  at  the  grated  window,  while  he  tossed  the  precious 
note  under  the  horses'  feet!  What  could  it  mean?  Later  he 
pricked  other  messages  and  sent  them  adrift  on  the  breeze,  praying 
that  they  might  find  an  intelligent  interpreter  who  would  appreciate 
and  act.  With  a  prayer  on  his  lips  he  would  cast  himself  down 
and  try  to  rest  his  feverish  brain  with  a  few  winks  of  sleep ;  but 
even  this  was  denied  him,  for  his  persecutor  every  half  hour  would 
flash  a  strong  glare  of  light  in  his  eyes  while  he  would  ask  in  an 
apparently  sympathetic  tone  if  he  was  sleeping  well.  He  could  not 
eat,  and  he  was  not  allowed  to  sleep.  This,  combined  with  tne  men- 
tal strain  and  overwork  at  the  crank  and  treadmill  at  the  mercy  of 
the  relentless  guard,  was  fast  making  a  wreck  of  him.  He  bore  up 
bravely,  even  after  hope  seemed  gone  and  he  had  resigned  himself 
to  his  fate.  Still  a  faint  hope  fluttered  in  his  breast,  but  who  does 
not  hope  even  after  all  hope  is  gone?  We  all  hope,  even  the  man 
condemned  to  be  hung  has^  hope  till  his  foot  strikes  the  plank  of 
the  gallows.  The  consumptive  as  he  is  panting  with  his  last  breath 
hopes  for  life  with  some  degree  of  faith.  Hope  is  a  word  that  plays 
a  more  prominent  part  in  our  lives  than  we  know. 

Leaving  Gordon  with  this  friend.  Hope,  to  brace  ut>  the  heart' 
his  brother  had  sworn  to  plant  gravestones  around,  (and  has  planted 
a  stone  wall  around  his  body  as  well)  we  will  return  to  the  mansion. 

Toward  the  gray  of  morn.  Palmello  crept  in  by  means  of  the 
old  rusty  key.  It  was  some  minutes  before  Giles  appeared. 

"Has  your  master  returned  yet?" 

"Oi  did  not  know  'e  was  out." 


304  WICKED  CITY. 

"Well,  he  went  away  about  dusk  to  take  a  stroll,  as  you  know, 
and  did  not  return.  Mrs.  Long  sent  me  to  look  for  him.  I  have 
so  far  been  unable  to  find  him.  Inform  your  mistress  that  I  have 
returned,  while  I  go  up  to  my  room  and  tidy  up  a  little." 

A  few  moments  later  a  knock  came  to  the  door  of  his  room — 
the  same  room  he  had  occupied  as  a  boy.  It  was  Giles. 

"I  culdn't  awaken  my  mistress,  so  I  have  jes  sent  'er  maid  up 
to  'er." 

"All  right.  If  she  wishes  to  see  me  I'll  be  in  the  smoking  room. 
Call  me." 

About  an  hour  later,  Giles  came  to  tell  him  that  she  wished 
to  see  him  immediately  in  the  parlor.  He  presented  himself  with 
well  assumed  haste  and  concern  for  the  news  he  brought  and  at 
the  remorse  she  felt  for  falling  asleep  while  waiting  for  the  sound  of 
his  footsteps,  a  sound  she  remembered  hearing,  then  that  strange 
sleep  directly  after,  causing  her  to  reel  and  fall  into  a  chair. 

Eight  o'clock  and  still  he  did  not  appear.  The  whole  house 
now  knew  of  his  strange  absence.  Palmello  again  went  in  search  of 
him.  Later,  Dorris,  herself,  ordered  the  carriage  and  drove  from 
place  to  place,  but  no  one  had  seen  him,  neither  was  his  name  on 
the  books  at  the  police  station  or  hospitals.  Almost  distracted,  she 
returned  to  see  if  Palmello  had  found  a  clew.  None.  For  days 
she  was  almost  frantic.  Then  came  the  calm  of  despair. 

Palmello,  backed  by  his  evil  designs,  for  propriety's  sake  now 
took  up  his  residence  at  the  "Savoy."  He  was  apparently  doing 
everything  in  his  power  to  find  his  friend,  but  in  reality  was  putting 
obstacles  in  the  way.  When  Dorris  supposed  he  was  out  in  search 
for  him,  he  might  at  times  be  found  at  the  gaming  tables — the 
£500  reward  he  had  shared  with  "Butch,"  which  was  quite  a  large 
sum.  In  the  history  of  all  criminals,  there  never  was  a  circumstance 
quoted  where  one  received  the  reward  for  his  own  apprehension. 
The  thought  of  this  seemed  to  furnish  him  great  amusement.^ 

In  spite  of  the  latest  capture  of  "long  and  short"  suspects,  Ro 
and  Arl  were  not  entirely  satisfied.  They  still  worked  on  the  theory 
that  the  leader  of  the  bold  gang  was  yet  at  large.  They  had  seen 
the  "long  and  short"  men  at  close  range  and  they  were  as  positive 
that  the  "long  man"  was  still  at  liberty  as  they  were  on  the  other 
hand  that  the  "short  man"  was  in  the  mighty  grip  of  the  law.  Some 
of  the  gang  now  under  arrest  were  previously  noticed  by  the  detec- 
tives to  enter  "Break-o'-Day"  Kit's  place.  They  now  gave  her  a 
call,  but  found  it  useless  to  look  for  a  "tip"  from  her.  She  met  all 
of  their  cleverly  put  questions  with  a  smile  and  a  remark  about  the 
coming  election  or  the  weather.  But  they  made  a  discovery  which 
puzzled  them  very  much.  "Break-o'-Day"  Kit  was  the  veiled  woman. 

Sauntering  down  Wabash  avenue  one  day,  they  dropped  in  at 
the  buffet  where  Henry,  the  colored  man.  was  still  filling  the  posi- 
tion Gordon  had  secured  for  him  before  his  departure.  While  they 


WICKED   CITY.  305 

were  joking  about  his  experience  on  the  highway  that  fatal  night 
(which  came  near  being  his  last),  an  acquaintance  from  the  Lex- 
ington chanced  in.  They  were  soon  in  conversation  about  the  "long 
and  short"  men.  In  fact,  this  was  the  main  topic  of  conversation 
throughout  the  city  just  at  this  period.  They  mentioned  Robert 
Long. 

"I  suppose  you  have  not  seen  him  since  he  left  his  quarters," 
the  detectives  inquired  in  an  off-hand  way. 

"Why,  yes,  I  have  seen  him  many  times." 

Henry  and  the  detectives  stared  in  open-mouthed  surprise.  At 
last  they  managed  to  ejaculate, 

"What  are  you  trying  to  give  us?" 

"I  am  not  trying  to  give  you  anything  but  what's  straight," 
their  friend  replied.  "Why,  what  of  it?  What  are  you  staring  at 
me  like  that  for?" 

"Well,  it's  enough  to  make  a  fellow  stare.  You  say  you  have 
seen  him  often?" 

"Why,  yes,  I  have  seen  him  many  times." 

"Where  did  you  see  him  and  when?" 

"Well,  I  have  met  him  often  down  town.  One  day  I  saw  him 
at  the  City  Hall  with  a  couple  of  detectives.  At  another  time,  I  saw 
him  drive  by  in  his  carriage  on  Michigan  boulevard.  At  another 
time  I  saw  him  at  the  Board  where  he  was  speculating  on  stock  and 
grain.  I  have  seen  him  at  the  Mendon  club,  Hawson  club  and  Bel- 
viden  club.  But  say,  come  to  think  of  it,  I  have  seen  him  with  you." 

The  detectives  smiled  incredulously  and  replied, 

"Oh  no,  you  are  mistaken,  that  was  a  Mr.  Palmello,  a  Cuban, 
darker  than  a  Spaniard.  Robert  Long  is  a  fair  looking  man  and  is 
a  perfect  picture  of  his  brother,  Gordon.  You  know  Gordon,  of 
course  ?" 

"Why  yes,  I  know  Gordon  well;  but  Gordon  is  light  and  fair 
while  Robert  is  dark  and  has  no  resemblance  whatever  except  in 
outline  of  features,  and  even  this  is  a  similarity  that  one  would 
hardly  notice." 

"Did  you  ever  see  them  together,  Mr.  Lindslay?" 

"Well — come  to  think  about  it,  I  never  saw  them  together;  but 
I  know  them  both  well  and  Gordon  used  to  call  quite  often  at  the 
hotel  where  I  would  meet  him  on  the  way  to  his  brother's  room." 

"Well,  you  certainly  must  be  mistaken,  for  Gordon  and  Robert 
look  so  much  alike  that  Gordon  came  very  near  going  over  the  road 
for  him." 

It  was  their  friend's  turn  now  to  stare  and  look  incredulous, 
and  he  replied, 

"Well,  I  don't  know  what  you  fellows  are  getting  at,  but  there 
is  one  thing  I  do  know  that  I  have  seen  Robert  Long  with  you,  and 
he  does  not  look  at  all  like  his  brother,  Gordon." 

"Describe  Robert  Long  to  us,"  they  both  requested  in  a  breath. 

The  guest  of  the  Lexington  described  Robert  as  he  was  when 
he  came  to  the  city  from  Cuba,  as  he  supposed  (and  at  the  time, 
with  no  definite  plans  formed,  registered  as  Robert  Long).  The 


306  WICKED  CITY. 

description  fitted  Palmello  to  perfection.  Their  old  suspicion  was 
again  aroused,  and  something  of  the  truth  flashed  through  their 
minds,  at  the  same  time  a  kind  of  admiration  for  the  man  who  had 
fooled  them  so  cleverly  and  juggled  with  the  people  like  so  many 
puppets. 


A  few  hours  for  preparation,  and  they  were  on  their  way  to 
England  in  quest  of  Louis  Palmello,  alias  Robert  Long,  the  "long 
man."  They  said  nothing  of  their  intentions  for  they  knew  it 
would  only  win  a  laugh,  for  they  had  no  positive  proof — the  proof 
that  the  "long  man"  could,  and  did,  in  some  mysterious  way,  make 
such  a  wonderful  change  in  his  appearance.  They  would  yet  have 
to  obtain  this  proof  although  they  were  now  satisfied  that  their  old 
theory  was  a  practical  one  and  there  could  be  no  mistake  of  Pal- 
mello being  the  leader  of  the  notorious  "long  and  short"  combina- 
tion. The  evidence  was  not  strong  enough  to  warrant  the  arrest 
of  a  man  who  stood  as  well  in  society  as  he  did,  facing  the  world 
with  apparently  such  an  irreproachable  character. 

Arriving  in  London,  they  cleverly  disguised  themselves  and 
shadowed  him  day  and  night. 


PROOF  POSITIVE. 

They  saw  Dorris  almost  every  day,  driving  hither  and  thither 
about  London  streets  with  a  care-worn  and  grief-stricken  face. 
They  thought  it  was  best  not  to  make  themselves  known  just  yet. 
Knowing  her  history,  a  great  pity  sprang  up  in  their  hearts.  They 
often  wondered  still  more  why  they  never  saw  Gordon.  They  won- 
dered still  more  at  what  they  saw  as  they,  disguised  as  beggars, 
lay  hidden  from  view  by  a  clump  of  bushes  after  following  Pal- 
mello from  the  Savoy.  They  saw  him  re-appear,  walk  slowly  down 
the  marble  steps  of  the  mansion  and  strike  out  through  the  trees  of 
the  park  in  their  direction.  He  took  a  seat  near  by  on  a  rustic 
bench.  He  then  lit  a  cigar,  and  settled  himself  in  a  comfortable 
position  as  if  to  enjoy  a  good  smoke  while  he  waited  for  somebody 
or  something.  What  could  it  be?  An  hour  passed.  They  saw  him 
look  at  his  watch,  aided  by  the  glare  of  a  match  which  threw  a  halo 
of  light  around  his  dark  features.  Closing  it  with  a  snap,  he  arose 
to  his  feet.  Then  they  saw  what  caused  a  whispered  word  of  won- 
der to  pass  between  them.  They  witnessed  that  which  they  had  fol- 
lowed him  day  and  night  to  see — a  lightning  change  of  appearance. 
But  this  proved  beyond  their  widest  expectations.  Palmello,  peer- 
ing around  in  every  direction,  and  apparently  being  satisfied  that 
he  was  unobserved,  removed  his  silk  hat.  Then  taking  a  flat  leather 
case  from  an  inner  pocket,  he  selected  a  small  flat  vial.  Pouring 
some  of  the  contents  in  the  palm  of  his  hand,  he  rubbed  them  to- 
gether with  a  quick  motion,  also  applied  it  to  his  face.  Every  ves- 
tige of  the  dark  color  left  it,  neck,  hands,  and  all,  leaving  him  white 


WICKED  CITY.  307 

and  ghastly  looking.  Securing  his  coat,  he  quickly  reversed  it 
formerly  a  dark  color,  it  was  now  a  light  tweed.  This  he  buttoned 
up  tightly.  Then  lifting  his  hat  from  the  bench,  the  two  detectives, 
who  were  watching  the  scene  with  great  satisfaction  mingled  with 
astonishment,  saw  him  shift  the  band  slightly,  give  it  a  shake,  and  it 
seemed  to  fall  into  a  shapeless  mass.  But  with  another  shake  and  a 
push,  he  walked  by  them  to  the  mansion  with  a  light  derby  instead 
of  a  silk  hat  on  his  ingenious  head. 

The  inmates  of  the  mansion  had  probably  gone  to  rest  for  there 
was  not  a  light  to  be  seen.  All  was  gloomy,  dark  and  still  as  they 
watched  him  mount  the  steps,  pass  between  the  great  statues  oil 
guard  and  enter  .by  means  of  a  key.  What  deviltry  was  he  attempt- 
ing now?  They  waited  some  time,  then  he  re-appeared  and  again 
they  witnessed  the  wonderful  change.  Then  they  shadowed  him  to 
his  quarters,  well  satisfied  with  the  night's  work,  having  the  proof 
they  required. 


Washing  up  and  changing  the  disguise  for  their  regular  every- 
day dress  as  Arlex  and  Rometto,  the  detectives  presented  them- 
selves at  the  mansion.  It  was  quite  early,  and  sleep  was  still  to  be 
seen  in  old  Giles'  eyes  as  he  answered  the  bell;  but  this  quickly 
fled  as  they  rested  on  the  two  detectives  from  America.  He,  as  well 
as  Jarl,  was  overjoyed  to  see  them,  and  at  once  informed  them  of 
Gordon's  _  mysterious  disappearance,  also  of  his  mistress'  awful  anx- 
iety. This  made  the  actions  of  last  night,  on  Palmello's  part,  clear 
to  them,  and  there  was  no  doubt  but  that  Palmello  was  at  the  bot- 
tom of  Gordon's  disappearance.  Changing  their  plans  ^somewhat, 
they  left  without  seeing  Mrs.  Waite  or  Dorris,  cautioning  Jarl  and 
Giles  to  say  nothing  of  their  presence  in  the  city. 

"If  we  continue  to  follow  Palmello,  he  may  lead  us  to  Gordon, 
himself,  if  he  is  alive,  or  to  some  clue  at  any  rate." 

So  disguising  themselves  as  hawkers  of  handkerchiefs,  they  kept 
him  under  surveillance  up  to  the  day  the  mysterious  clock  was  to 
give  up  its  second  secret.  Then  these  clever,  persistent  men  were 
amply  rewarded.  They  followed  him  into  the  "boozing  ken,"  kept 
by  "Butch."  This  gentleman  they  immediately  recognized.  Among 
the  many  warrants  they  carried  was  one  for  him,  old  with  age. 
They  then  shadowed  Palmello  to  the  vicinity  of  a  large,  gloomy 
looking  building  which  they  made  out  to  be  a  prison.  They  saw 
him  stop  and  borrow  a  light  for  his  cigar  from  a  hackman  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  street.  There  was  a  fog  hanging  over  the  city 
(something  like  the  day  of  number  "49's"  escape  from  this  same 
prison,  the  hackman  also  being  the  same  one  he  had  handled  so 
roughly  four  months  previous,  leaving  him  with  a  broken  head 
while  he  escaped  in  his  rig).  Under  protection  of  the  fog,  they 
managed  to  get  near  enough  to  hear  Palmello  say, 

"What  building  is  that  across  the  street?" 

"Oh,  that's  the  jail.     Be  ye  a  stranger?" 


308  WICKED  CITY. 

"Yes,  I  was  just  wandering  around,  looking  at  places  of  inter- 
est It's  a  gloomy  looking  structure." 

"Well  hit  don't  look  so  gloomy  t'  me,  since  one  o'  me  hold 
friends  came  back  curse  'im.  Hi  ken  look  hup  and  see  'is  purty 
face  hin  de  window  most  any  time." 

"Well,  that's  pleasant." 

"Pleasant?  Well,  Hi  should  say  so!  Hit  makes  life  wuth 
livin.  Hi  ken  set  'ere  fur  de  next  twelve  years  an  watch  de  wrin- 
kles grow  hon  'is  mug.  But  they'll  never  grow  so  deep  as  the 
wrinkles  'e  put  hin  de  back  o'  me  'ed  wid  a  brick.  Yes,  hit  war  dis 
way:  'E  broke  jail  an  ran  over  'ere,  'e  'it  me  wid  a  brick,  swapped 
'is  prison  suit  for  me  clothes,  dumped  me  hout  hin  de  street,  stole 
nr?  team,  an  dat's  de  last  we  see  of  Mm  for  a  long  time,  w'en  hall  of 
a  sudden,  a  feller  named  'Butch'  turned  'im  up  to  de  Governor.  An 
dere  'e  is  fer  de  next  twelve  years  t'  come." 

They  saw  Palmello  glance  across  at  the  prison  with  that  look 
of  exultation  which  graced  his  face  during  the  identification  of  Gor- 
don in  the  American  prison. 

"Well,  you. were  fortunate,  my  friend,  that  your  head  was  not 
as  easy  to  break  as  the  jail  or  you  would  not -have  been  here." 

With  this  he  cast  another  quick  look  at  the  prison,  continued 
on  his  way  and  was  soon  lost  from  sight  in  the  mist. 

ON  THE  CRANK. 

"Ro,  Gordon  is  in  that  prison!" 

"I  am  of  that  opinion,  but  how  he  got  there  is  a  wonder." 
Re-crossing  the  street,  they  made  themselves  known  to  the  jail 
officials  who  sent  a  guard  to  show  them  around.  Corridor  after 
corridor  they  traversed,  looking  into  every  face  as  the  prisoners 
were  called  to  the  cell  door.  Gordon  was  not  among  them.  They 
left,  greatly  disappointed.  On  their  way  out  as  they  turned  the  cor- 
ner Arlex  noticed  a  sheet  of  writing  paper  clinging  to  his  heel.  He 
tried  to  scuff  it  off.  After  making  two  or  three  unsuccessful  efforts 
he  raised  his  foot  and  impatiently  detached  it  with  his  fingers.  He 
made  a  motion  to  cast  it  aside,  but  his  fingers  felt  the  pricks  and  he 
examined  it  more  closely  by  a  street  lamp.  It  proved  to  be  one 
of  the  messages  cast  out  by  Gordon  from  the  window  above.  They 
returned  at  once.  Upon  closer  inquiry  the  usher  informed  them 
that  there  was  one  prisoner  working  overtime  on  the  crank  (as  pun- 
ishment for  jail  breaking),  whom  he  had  forgotten.  Wouldn't  they 
take  a  look  at  him?  Yes,  they  would.  They  were  men  who  never 
did  things  by  halves,  and  to  this  principle  (and  the  message  deliv- 
ered by  the  boot-heel)  Gordon  owes  his  liberty,  for  it  was  he  they 
saw  toiling  at  the  crank — the  very  shadow  of  his  former  self.  As 
they  drew  near,  they  saw  him  give  the  crank  a  nervous  jerk, 
straighten  up  and  face  the  guard.  They  were  still  too  far  away  to 
hear  what  was  said.  But  they  saw  enough.  They  witnessed  a  sight 
never  seen  in  an  American  prison.  The  guard  knocked  the  prisoner 


WICKED   CITY.  309 

down  with  a  blow  from  his  ponderous  fist,  and  kicked  him  almost 
insensible  with  his  heavy  boots.  They  were  now  near  enough  to  see 
and  hear. 

"Get  up  an  go  t'  work  or  Oi'll  cave  yer  ribs  hin  an  drown  yer 
eyes  out,  ye  yellow-faced  cripple.  Come  on!  Get  a  move  on  ye! 
Ye  got  500  more  t'  do  yet." 

With  a  moan  he  struggled  to  his  feet  and  reached  blindly  for 
the  crank. 

"Get  'old  o'  that  crank  or  Oi'll  cave  yer  'ead  hin." 

Could  this  be  Gordon?  No!  Impossible!  Yet  the  figure  and 
features  looked  familiar.  All  doubt  was  dispelled  as  the  victim  of  a 
brother's  revenge  once  more  released  the  crank  and  faced  his  perse- 
cutor with  determination  on  his  face  and  in  the  tone  of  his  voice. 

"You  most  hellish  of  human  creatures !  I  refuse  to  make  an- 
other turn." 

"Ye  won't?" 

"No,  I  won't!  You  think  to  kill  me  by  degrees!  I  will  not 
give  you  that  satisfaction!" 

"Ye  won't!     Well,  wat  er  ye  goin  t'  do  about  it?" 

This  was  accompanied  by  more  curses. 

"What  will  I  do,  you  say?  This  is  what  I  will  do:  I  will 
make  you  kill  me  at  once  or  I'll  kill  you !" 

The  only  answer  to  this  was  a  curse  and  an  order  to  get  to 
work.  Persecuted  beyond  all  endurance,  Gordon  sprang  at  the 
guard  and  dealt  him  a  stinging  blow  between  the  sneaky  little  eyes 
and  followed  with  another  directly  on  the  already  badly  disfigured 
nose. 

"There,  now!  Go  on  and  kill  me  if  you  have  got  nerve 
enough." 

As  he  stepped  back  with  folded  arms  to  await  death,  his  eyes 
fell  on  the  disguised  detectives  who  had  drawn  near.  The  broken- 
nosed  brute  was  just  about  to  return  a  mighty  sledge-hammer  blow, 
when  his  arm  was  caught  as  if  in  a  vice,  and  Arlex  ordered  him  to 
desist. 

"Who  are  ye  two  tramps  that  comes  sneakin  an  rubbin  around? 
Wat  are  ye  interferin  wid  me  business  fer?" 

"Well,  we  are  detectives,  and  we  want  to  get  a  good  look  at 
that  prisoner's  face  before  you  spoil  it  entirely.  What  is  the  pris- 
oner's name?" 

"Aint  got  no  name ;  call  'im  '49,' "  the  brute  growled. 

Turning  their  backs  on  the  vicious  guard,  they  now  addressed 
themselves  to  Gordon. 

"What  is  your  name?" 

"My  name  is  Gordon  Long." 

"Oh,  we  thought  as  much !" 

Then  there  was  an  aJTecting  meeting  between  the  three  men. 
Gordon  almost  hugged  his  rescuers,  for  such  they  proved  to  be. 
They  sent  for  his  lawyers  who  knew  the  Governor  of  the  prison 
well.  They  proved  that  a  great  mistake  had  been  made.  So  once 
more  Gordon  was  a  free  man,  and  on  the  way  to  his  house,  accora-. 


310  WICKED  CITY. 

panied  by  the  detectives,  the  lawyers  and  the  Governor  of  the 
prison,  who  wished  to  offer  his  regrets  and  apologize  to  the  wife  of 
the  victim  for  his  mistake,  and  another's  heartless  scheme,  if  it  were 
proved  that  he  was  really  mistaken;  but  he  would  satisfy  himself 
first. 

As  Gordon  found  himself  among  gentlemen  and  breathing  the 
fresh  air,  a  great  pity  swelled  his  heart  for  every  human  being 
between  the  walls  of  a  prison,  no  matter  what  their  shortcomings 
might  be. 

"Well,  Gordon,  you  seem  to  have  more  than  your  share  of 
prison  experiences,"  said  the  lawyer. 

"Yes,  and  it  goes  to  show,  Mr.  Burns,  what  wonderful  condi- 
tions of  affairs  a  harmless  looking  clock  can  bring  about  if  it  is 
invented  with  an  aim  and  constructed  for  a  purpose." 

"Yes,  and  it  was  a  great  mistake  your  father,  God  rest  his  soul, 
made  by  inventing  a  clock  with  a  secret  that  should  have  been 
trusted  to  his  lawyers  instead.  Still,  you  look  at  it  in  one  way 
(although  an  eccentric  idea  carried  out  by  an  eccentric  man)  it  was 
not  an  entirely  impractical  one." 

"It  has  many  redeeming  points,  but  he  had  not  calculated  on 
one  of  his  sons  degenerating  so  low  as  to  have  no  redeeming  points. 
By  the  way,  Mr.  Burns,  is  not  this  the  day  it  should  give  up  its  sec- 
ond secret?" 

"Yes,  my  dear  Gordon,  and  you  will  be  just  in  time.  I  was 
at  the  mansion  when  the  detectives'  message  reached  me." 

"It  is  peculiar,  but  to  the  clock  I  owe  all  my  happiness  and  all 
my  misery,  and  my  poor  wife,  God  bless  her  brave  and  true  heart, 
has  shared  it  all  with  me,  a  martyr  to  a  fiend's  horrible  passion,  a 
fiend  who  is  of  the  same  father  as  I,  a  fact  that  I  have  wished  a 
thousand  times  was  not  so,  in  order  that  I(  might  avenge  the  wrong 
he  has  done  her,  and  see  what  the  blood  is  like  which  courses 
through  a  heart  as  black  as  his.  All  I  now  want  is  a  life  of  peace 
with  my  heroic  little  wife.  It  is  all  we  ask.  it  is  what  we  are  cer- 
tainly entitled  to,  and  if  he  breaks  in  on  that  peace  again,  revenge 
shall  be  mine,  for  I  will  drain  his  heart  of  its  life  blood,  for  it  seems 
the  law  cannot  reach  him." 

"The  law,  mv  dear  Gordon,  may  reach  him  sooner  than  you 
expect.  In  fact  the  mighty  hand  of  the  law  has  him,  so  to  speak, 
on  the  hooks."  said  Arlex. 

"Well,  I  hope  he  don't  wiggle  off,"  said  the  lawyer. 

"Nary  a  wiggle,  my  good  friend,  narry  a  wiggle,  for  he  is  in 
the  meshes  of  the  great  drag-net  of  Chicago,  a  net  that  catches 
many  fish  and  sometimes  fish  from  foreign  waters,  eh,  Arlex?" 
said  Rometto. 

"Yes,  and  Mr.  Long,  the  "Long  man"  will  have  a  long,  long 
time  in  which  he  can  think  over  the  past  and  see  the  error  of  his 
ways." 

Stopping  long  enough  for  the  detectives  and  Gordon  to  make 
themselves  presentable,  they  again  continued  on  their  way  and  soon 
arrived  at  the  mansion  where  they  found  the  inmates  all  gathered 


WICKED   CITY.  311 

around  the  great  clock,  with  the  exception  of  Dorris  who  was  srt- 
ting  near  by  in  a  large  rocker,  pale  and  listless.  It  was  in  Gordon's 
own  rooms.  She  had  declined  to  leave  them,  so  the  servants  had 
brought  the  clock  above.  It  only  required  half  a  glance  to  see  the 
unshed  tears  in  her  sweet  brown  eyes  and  the  trace  of  those  already 
shed.  With  a  glad  cry  she  threw  herself  into  Gordon's  arms,  and 
sobbed  between  her  anxious  and  rapid  questions.  The  others  also 
gathered  around  to  welcome  him  back,  his  good  friend,  Palmello, 
the  foremost  of  all.  But  he  could  hardly  suppress  a  start  as  his 
eyes  fell  upon  the  detectives  and  the  Governor  of  the  prison  where 
he  was  known  as  number  "49."  He  shook  hands  with  the  detec- 
tives and  was  introduced  to  the  Governor. 

Again  re-united  and  happy,  they  chatted  as  only  happy  ones 
can.  The  clock  was  just  about  to  strike.  Seeing  this,  the  "man  in 
black"  raised  his  voice  and  commanded  attention.  The  smiles  had 
driven  away  all  traces  of  tears  from  the  now  rosy  face  of  Dorris, 
and  she  was  as  eager  as  the  rest  to  witness  this  second  and  last  act 
of  the  clock,  which  had  already  inspired  her  with  such  awe. 


A  VOICE  FROM  THE  GRAVE— "COMMIT  NO   SIN,  THE 
PRICE  IS  DISASTER  AND  PREMATURE  DEATH." 

As  the  beautiful  chimes  began  to  toll  off  the  hour,  they  gath- 
ered around  and  waited  with  breathless  interest.  It  was  9  o'clock. 
At  the  last  stroke  the  puppets  appeared  in  answer  to  the  bell  of  the 
cathedral.  The  miniature  figures  halted  directly  before  the  gold  dial 
and  the  same  slow,  affecting  music  could  be  heard  as  in  Ivy  cottage 
at  Sunnyside.  The  little  panel  slid  back  and  the  puppet  that  had 
disappeared  then,  now  glided  out  on  the  platform.  The  hour  hand 
swung  around  and  back^again  with  great  force,  causing  a  gong  to 
ring  and  vibrate  in  the  air  for  some  time.  In  accordance  with  pre- 
vious order  of  things  it  seemed  to  act  as  a  signal,  for  the  little  fig- 
ure on  the  platform  opened  in  half,  causing  a  piece  of  parchment 
to  fall  to  the  table  below.  The  "man  in  black"  immediately  pos- 
sessed himself  of  this,  while  the  others  looked  at  him  with  ill-con- 
cealed curiosity.  Mrs.  Waite  was  the  most  anxious  of  all,  and 
seemed  greatly  agitated. 

As  if  it  had  discharged  its  duty,  the  little  figure  closed  and  dis- 
appeared through  the  opening,  followed  immediately  by  the  closing1 
of  the  panel.  The  gong  was  _  again  heard  and  the  puppet  shot  up 
in  its  old  place  beside  the  miniature  figure  of  the  bride,  then  accom- 
panied by  sweet  music,  continued  the  journey  that  was  so  strangely 
interrupted  three  months  before.  As  the  last  strains  of  soft  music 
died  away  on  the  air,  a  long  breath  was  drawn,  and  they  all  turned 
their  questioning  eyes  upon  the  "man  in  black,"  who  cleared  his 
throat,  adjusted  his  glasses,  and  closely  examined  the  piece  of  parch- 
ment in  his  hand.  It  was  addressed  to  Robert.  He  glanced  around 
as  if  really  expecting  to  see  his  face  among  the  eager  ones  in  his 
line  of  vision. 


312  WICKED  CITY. 

"This,  I  see,  is  directed  to  Robert  Long.  I  see  that  he  is  not 
present.  Gordon,  as  his  brother,  what  do  you  wish  me  to  do?" 

"Open  and  read  it.  His  conduct,  as  all  present  are  aware,  has 
not  been  such  that  we  should  stand  on  ceremony  regarding  any 
matter  whatever  concerning  him." 

The  "man  in  black"  hesitated  a  moment,  cleared  his  throat, 
re-adjusted  his  glasses  and  proceeded  to  read  the  following— the 
tick-tock  of  the  clock  alone  mingled  with  his  voice  and  was  all  that 
disturbed  the  silence.  Mrs.  Waite,  white  and  trembling,  leaned 
on  Dorris  for  support.  Palmello,  the  clever  actor,  showed  only  the 
concern  a  good  friend  of  the  family  should  under  the  circumstances. 

"My  Dear  Son  Robert : — The  means  I  take  to  put  you  in  posses- 
sion of  your  inheritance  possibly  seem  strange,  and  somewhat  incon- 
sistent, but  I  believe  it  is  for  your  good.  Youth  is  generally  a  reck- 
less stage  of  life.  For  this  reason  I  have,  after  two  years  of  labor, 
constructed  a  clock  which  will  point  out  the  legitimate  son  and  heir 
to  the  estates  (which  are  entailed  as  you  are  aware)  at  a  period  in 
your  life  when  you  will  be  a  man  and  more  prepared  and  more  com- 
petent to  repress  any  reckless  inclinations  which  would  arise  from 
being  made  acquainted  with  your  misfortune — the  misfortune  of 
being  the  illegitimate  son  of  a  man  who  is  slowly  dying  from  remorse 
over  a  sin  committed  in  the  recklessness  of  his  youth.  To  guard 
against  the  possibility  of  your  squandering  the  fortune  I  leave  you 
from  a  spirit  of  recklessness,  as  is  possible  were  you  in  possession 
of  it  at  the  time  the  clock  divulges  the  secret  of  your  great  misfor- 
tune, I  have  delayed  even  the  knowledge  of  it  until  you  have,  in  a 
degree,  become  accustomed  to  your  new  and  not  enviable  position  in 
life.  For  this  reason,  alone,  have  I  constructed  the  clock  in  such  a 
manner  that  it  will  not  put  you  in  possession  of  your  inheritance  for 
three  months  after  it  has  divulged  the  facts  of  your  misfortune. 
Your  inheritance  is  in  the  form  of  cash,  and  lies  in  the  Bank  of 
England.  My  lawyers  are  to  reverse  the  figure  2  on  the  clock  and 
insert  a  key  they  possess  in  the  fourth  keyhole.  This  will  disclose 
a  recess  in  which  you  will  find  your  inheritance,  a  check  for  £100,- 
000—" 

The  detectives,  who  had  been  watching  Palmello,  saw  him  start 
and  something  like  regret  and  wonder  overspread  his  face. 

"An  amount  equal  to  the  value  of  the  estates.  I  love  you  both 
and  wish  you  to  share  alike  my  possessions.  As  to  your  mother- 
after  careful  consideration,  I  believe  it  best  that  you  should  never 
know  her.  The  only  thing  I  can  say  regarding  the  matter  is,  she  is 
a  lady  of  good  birth  and  is  respected  by  all  who  know  her.  She  is 
leading  a  peaceful  life  with  her  daughter,  a  child  as  good  of  heart 
and  as  pure  of  mind  and  thought  as  my  two  noble  boys.  A  lady 
that  has  committed  no  sin,  for  she  was  the  victim  of  my  ingenuity 
and  a  momentary  mad  passion.  Having  committed  one  sin  against 
her,  I  do  not  wish  to  add  another  by  putting  any  person  in  posses- 
sion of  facts  which  might  bring  discredit  and  sorrow  on  her  and 
humiliation  to  her  beautiful  daughter  (as  I  was  humiliated  before 
my  sons  by  the  confession  of  your  old  nurse).  Her  daughter  is  3 


WICKED   CITY.  313 

child  of  wedlock,  a  child  her  life  is  wrapped  up  in,  a  child  she  has 
brought  up  in  ignorance  of  sin.  For  their  sakes  I  withhold  a  knowl- 
edge you  would  undoubtedly  desire  to  possess. 

"COMMIT  NO  SIN,  the  price  of  sin  is  DISASTER  AND 
PREMATURE  DEATH.  All  I  request  is  that  you  try  and  think 
as  kindly  of  me  as  possible  and  forgive  me  if  you  can.  Having 
almost  finished  a  life  of  remorse,  I  sign  as  your  sinful  but  loving 
father,  after  which  I  lay  down  my  pen  for  the  last  time  on  earth. 

"Orton  D.  Long." 

A  MORAL  DEGENERATE. 

Mrs.  Waite  drew  a  sigh  of  relief.  The  dark  clouds  seemed  to 
roll  away  from  her  vision.  They  now  pressed  around  the  reader 
who  reversed  the  figure  2,  as  requested  in  the  letter,  and  inserted  a 
key.  The  recess  mentioned  was  found  to  contain  a  check  on  the 
Bank  of  England  for  £100,000.  Turning  with  this  in  his  hand,  he 
smoothed  it  out  between  his  fingers  and  again  glanced  at  Gordon 
for  instructions.  Gordon  answered  the  look  by  saying, 

"Well,  I  hardly  know  what  to  advise  regarding  that,  Mr.  Burns, 
but  I  suppose  you  had  better  take  charge  of  it  until  he  can  be 
found." 

"But  how  are  we  to  find  him?"  the  lawyer  inquired;  "if  these 
two  gentlemen,  members  of  the  greatest  police  system  in  the  world, 
have,  after  long  and  diligent  search,  failed  to  locate  him?  How  are 
we  to  have  success  where  they  have  experienced  defeat?" 

"Well,  we  will  offer  £2,000  reward  and  put  the  case  in  their 
hands  to  do  the  best  they  can.  Don't  you  think  this  would  be  a 
good  idea,  Mr.  Palmello?" 

"Why,  yes,  I  do,  indeed  gentlemen ;  it  would  be  a  splendid  idea, 
but  of  course,  as  they  say,  they  have  failed  as  yet  to  locate  him. 
In  consequence,  of  course — " 

"We  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Palmello,  we  did  not  say  that  we 
had  failed  to  locate  him." 

"Oh,  then  you  have  located  him,  I  should  infer?" 

"Yes.  We  have  already  located  him,  and  know  where  to  put 
our  hands  on  him  at  any  moment.  For  that  reason  we  do  not  wish 
to  take  advantage  or  Mr.  Long's  generous  offer,  for  it  would  be 
accepting  money  that  we  should  not  earn." 

"Well,  friends,  I  appreciate  the  principle  that  prompts  your 
response  to  Mr.  Palmello,  but  if  you  know  where  he  is  to  be  found, 
take  him  this  check  and  this  message,  also,  from  me — a  message  to 
the  effect  that  he  must,  in  the  future,  leave  us  in  peace  or  the  retri- 
bution he  so  justly  deserves  will  overtake  him." 

"  'Retribution,' "  the  American  detective  answered,  "has  already 
overtaken  him,  Mr  Long,  for  he  is  in  the  meshes  of  the  great  'Chi- 
cago drag-net,'  which  spreads  its  ample  folds  over  many  countries, 
and  I  am  sure  he  is  thought  so  much  of  there  that  he  will  hardly 
be  granted  him  a  leave  of  absence  long  enough  to  ever  pay  you  a 
visit  for  good  or  evil." 


314  WICKED  CITY. 

"Well,  thank  God  for  that,  and  you,  also,  my  good  friends. 
'Friends,'  I  say,  for  indeed  you  have  been  all  that  the  word  implies 
and  my  wife  and  I  wish  to  thank  you  both  for  the  great  services 
you  have  rendered  us." 

"Don't  mention  it.  It  is  in  our  line  of  duty  to  right  wrong, 
and,  as  much  as  possible,  protect  those  who  are  honest  of  purpose 
from  those  who  are  not." 

"Well,  I  insist  upon  mentioning  it,  and  another  thing  you  must 
allow  me  to  mention  is,  that  I  owe  my  life  to  you." 

"Yes,  not  only  his  life,  but  our  future  happiness,"  interrupted 
Dorris ;  "for  I  am  satisfied  if  he  were  at  liberty  he  would  murder  us 
or  spoil  our  peace  of  mind  with  attempts  worse  than  murder." 

"Yes,  friends,  my  wife  and  I  would  sooner  meet  death  than  suf- 
fer a  repetition  of  the  past." 

The  voices  and  appearance  of  these  earnest  faces  carried  truth 
and  conviction  to  their  listeners. 

"Well,  Mr.  Long,  you  and  yours  can  rest  in  peace  for  the  rest 
of  your  days,  for  the  rest  of  his  days  will  be  spent  in  an  American 
prison,  doing  penance  for  a  list  of  crimes  as  bold  as  they  have  been 
strange  and  out  of  the  ordinary.  I  am  not  much  of  a  hand  to  mor- 
alize, but  I  might  say  if  a  man,  such  as  he,  had  tested  his  ability  in 
the  right  direction,  he  would,  undoubtedly,  have  been  one  of  the 
brightest  lights  that  shine  on  the  great  world.  Yes,  I  might  say  that 
half  of  the  ability  he  has  shown,  if  exerted  in  the  right  direction, 
would  lead  him  to  the  head  of  the  people,  a  power  in  the  land,  be 
it  either  on  American  or  English  soil." 

At  this  point  Gordon  excused  himself  from  the  room  for  a 
moment  and  the  lawyer  made  reply. 

"Yes,  what  you  say  has  a  good  deal  of  truth  in  it,  for  as  a 
boy  he  was  the  brightest  of  all  for  miles  around  old  London.  I 
often  predicted  that  he  would  become  either  one  of  the  greatest 
men  of  our  period  or  one  of  the  greatest  scoundrels." 

"From  what  I  understand  he  has  proved  your  theory  a  correct 
one,"  said  Palmello,  with  a  peculiar  smile. 

"Indeed  he  has,"  the  lawyer  asserted ;  "for  he  has  degenerated 
from  a  youth  that  was  perfection  to  one  of  the  greatest  scoundrels 
unhung — a  man  that  has  also  made  a  reputation  to  that  effect  in 
every  country  during  the  carnival  of  crime  in  the  American  city." 

"He  is  what  you  would  call  a  'moral  degenerate,'  then,"  said 
Gordon,  who  had  again  rejoined  the  group  with  a  narrow  slip  of 
paper  between  his  two  fingers. 

"Yes,  Gordon,  and  the  best  illustration  of  one  I  ever  saw,  read, 
or  heard  of,  for  he,  in  a  few  short  years,  has  degenerated  from  the 
best  of  all,  down,  down,  down  to  the  very  worst  that  could  be 
imagined." 

"In  fact,  Mr.  Burns,  to  worse  than  could  be  imagined  of  a  hu- 
man being,"  said  Gorodn :  "for  even  you,  you,  my  good  friend,  do 
not  know  all,  neither  could  you  ever  imagine  the  extent  to  which  he 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


315 


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316  WICKED  CITY. 

has  lowered  himself  in  crime  and  at  the  same  time  ekedl  out  a  hor- 
rible vengeance  on  me.  He  made  some  horrible  threats  and  carried 
out  all  of  them  to  my  great  surprise  and  discomfort.  But  let  it 
pass.  Here,  Mr.  Arlex  and  Mr.  Rometto,  is  a  small  acknowledge- 
ment of  my  appreciation  of  your  diligence  and  persistency.  Now  I 
will  warn  you  to  start  with,  that  we  will  not  listen  to  any  objections 
you  may  make." 

With  a  kindly  smile  he  handed  them  a  check  for  £10,000. 

"Here,  also,  is  the  check  on  the  Bank  of  England  for  £100,000. 
You  will  be  conferring  a  great  favor  on  us  if  you  will  kindly  see 
that  it  reaches  the  one  that  it  is  meant  for ;  and  I  pray  God  that  he 
will  see  the  error  of  his  ways,  and  with  this  very  comfortable 
fortune  lift  himself  from  out  the  old  rut  so  strewn  with  corrup- 
tion." 

There  was  a  cold  sneer  on  the  face  of  Palmello,  and  the  cruel 
lines  of  his  mouth  twitched. 

"We  will  do  as  you  wish,  Mr.  Long,  but  I  am  afraid  he  is  past 
redemption."  And  there  was  a  twinkle  in  the  detectives'  eyes  as 
they  continued :  "Anyway,  he  will  have  ample  time  for  reflection. 
Probably  he  may  become  convinced  of  the  truth  of  his  father's  very 
true  words" — the  detective's  face  became  serious  now — "that  the 
price  of  sin  is  disaster  and  death,  for  it  certainly  is,  as  we  have  seen 
thousands  meet  both  while  following  our  calling  as  detectives.  He 
also  may  become  convinced  of  this  and  make  peace  with  his  God." 

Palmello,  who  had  listened  to  this  conversation  with  the  half 
sneer  still  on  his  face,  noticed  the  detective,  while  speaking,  had 
slipped  the  small  check  in  his  pocket.  The  other  for  £100,000  he 
still  held  in  his  hand.  Palmello  in  an  insinuating  and  slightly  moved 
tone  said: 

"Mr.  Rometto,  do  you  feel  safe  in  carrying  a  demand  for  so 
large  a  sum  such  a  great  distance  across  the  sea?" 

"Mr.  Long  seems  to  feel  that  the  confidence  he  has  placed  in 
us  will  not  be  misplaced.  Still,  if  you  are  uneasy  about  it  reaching 
its  owner,  as  I  infer  you  are  from  the  tone  you  adopt,  we  will  dis- 
charge our  duty  at  once  by  placing  it  in  the  hands  of  the  one  it  is 
intended  for." 

"He  is  here  in  London,  then,  I  should  judge  from  your  words?" 
Palmello  inquired  in  as  careless  a  tone  as  he  could  assume. 

"Yes.  he  is  in  London.  We  decided  to  wait  until  a  more  fitting 
time  to  deliver  it ;  but  as  you  seem  so  greatly  concerned  for  its  safety, 
we  will  deliver  it  at  once." 

"At  once?"  Palmello  asked,  in  a  surprised  way,  looking  around 
the  room  at  the  different  faces  as  did  the  others. 

"Yes,  at  once,  my  friend ;  but  I'm  afraid  he  will  refuse  it." 

"He  will  refuse  it?" 

"We  think  so." 

"Oh,  he  could  not  refuse  it !  That  would  be  impossible,  impos- 
sible, to  refuse  so  large  a  sum  of  ready  money." 

The  detectives  had  edged  somewhat  nearer  during  this  peculiar 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  817 

DRY  GOODS 

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318  WICKED  CITY. 

conversation,  and  Rometto  presented  the  check  for  £100,000  to  Pal- 
mello,  saying, 

"We  will  see  if  he  will  refuse  it.  Mr.  Robert  Long,  I  have  the 
great  honor  of  delivering  into  your  own  hand  the  fortune  which  you 
inherited  just  now  in  such  a  peculiar  manner.  Oh,  as  I  thought, 
you  will  not  accept !  You  are  the  first  one  I  ever  heard  of  who  had 
to  be  forced  to  accept  money,  especially  a  sum  of  this  denomination. 
It  is  plain  to  see  that  you  were  not  raised  in  Chicago." 

"What  do  you  mean,  sir?    Are  you  crazy?" 

"No,  but  my  friend,  Arlex,  is.  See,  he  is  about  to  decorate  your 
wrist  with  a  pair  of  'come-alongs.'  " 

Arlex  had  already  done  this  with  such  a  quick  and  deft  motion 
that  Palmello  and, the  others  were  hardly  aware  he  was  performing 
anything  out  of  the  ordinary. 

"You  scoundrels !  What  do  you  mean  by  this  ungentlemanly 
conduct?  Mr.  Long,  will  you  allow  your  friends  to  insult  me  while 
a  guest  under  your  own  roof?" 

Gordon,  thinking  it  was  a  jest,  replied, 

"Oh,  they  are  just  joking,  I  guess,  Mr.  Palmello.  It  is  a  joke, 
is  it  not  my  friends?"  turning  to  the  detectives. 

"Yes,  but  it  is  rather  a  serious  joke  on  him,  I  take  it,  for  he 
will  have  to  wear  these  little  decorations  I  hold  in  my  hand  until 
we  land  him  in  an  American  prison."  Rometto,  as  he  spoke,  jingled 
a  pair  of  hand-cuffs." 

"But  you  certainly  can't  mean  what  you  say?  There  must  be 
some  mistake.  I  am  sure  that  my  friend,  Palmello,  can  explain  mat- 
ters to  your  satisfaction." 

"Well,  we  are  sorry,  but  we  owe  a  duty  to  our  country  and  our 
friends.  We  hope  you  will  excuse  this  scene,  but  the  gentleman 
forced  it  himself.  We  had  intended  to  defer  his  arrest  until  a  more 
appropriate  time." 

"But  what  is  he  charged  with?" 

"He  is   charged   with  crimes  too  numerous   to   mention." 

They  all  eyed  the  detectives  with  incredulous  smiles. 

"What  crimes  is  he  guilty  of?    Name  some  of  them." 

They  still  thought  it  was  a  joke  and  were  now  prepared  to 
help  carry  it  out. 

"Well,  it  would  take  many  closely  written  pages  to  portray  in 
detail  each  and  every  crime  committed  during  the  great  carnival  of 
crime  in  Chicago;  but  among  them  is  allowing  innocent  men  to  lie 
in  jail,  charged  with  crimes  that  he  is  responsible  for." 

"But  ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  see  by  your  smiling  faces  you  are 
under  the  mistaken  impression  that  we  are  trying  to  furnish  you 
with  a  little  amusement.  Such  is  not  the  case.  We  were  never  more 
earnest  in  our  lives ;  neither  have  we  ever  been  able  to  perform 
a  greater  service  for  the  people  of  America." 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  319 

MR.  TAYLOR  SAYSt 

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820  WICKED  CITY. 

THE  ARREST. 

Palmello,  with  an  impatient  motion,  now  endeavored  to  free 
his  hands  and  said: 

"Mr.  Long,  if  you  allow  your  guest  to  be  made  a  target  for 
cruel  jokes,  I  will  in  the  future  discontinue  my  visits." 

"Well,  we  will  see  that  you  discontinue  your  visits  here,  as 
well  as  elsewhere  in  London,  for  you  are  going  with  us  to  make  one 
long,  long  visit,  Mr.  Long,  alias  Palmello." 

Gordon  now  thought  the  joke  had  been  carried  far  enough  and 
said: 

"My  good  friends,  we  appreciate  a  joke  as  well  as  any,  but  I  am 
afraid  you  are  carrying  this  one  a  little  too  far.  I  will  have  to 
request  you  to  release  Mr.  Palmello." 

"Mr.  Long,  can  you  not  open  your  eyes  to  the  truth?" 

"I  hardly  understand  you,  Mr.  Rometto." 

"It  is  simple  enough.  You  requested  me  to  deliver  a  check  for 
£100,000  to  Robert  Long." 

"Yes." 

"Well,  we  had  decided  to  call  at  his  hotel  later  and  present  it 
to  him  there;  but  contrary  to  our  expectations,  he  forced  matters 
a  little  by  casting  an  insinuation  to  the  effect  that  we  were  not 
competent,  or  responsible,  so  to  dispel  any  such  illusions,  we  offered 
it  to  him  at  once ;  but,  as  we  predicted,  he  refused  to  accept." 

"Yes,  I  see.  But  you  misunderstand  me.  The  check  is  for  Mr. 
Robert  Long." 

"Well,  there  is  Mr.  Robert  Long,  cleverly  disguised,  and  using 
the  name  of  Palmello." 

Palmello,  on  hearing  this,  made  a  lightning  like  motion  with 
his  free  hand  towards  a  pistol.  It  was  gone. 

"Ah,  you  can  throw  your  hand  back  there  pretty  lively,  can't 
you?  It  comes  handy  after  all  the  practice  you  had  in  Chicago  as 
the  'long  man,'  but  you  will  find  no  pistol.  We  took  care  of  those 
while  your  attention  was  taken  up  with  the  strange  clock." 

"Curses  on  you!    What  do  you  mean?" 

"We  mean,  Mr.  Long,  alias  our  good  friend,  Palmello,  that  yon 
are  our  prisoner,  and  we  sail  for  America  to-morrow.  We  are  going 
to  take  you  with  us.  We  will  give  the  cup  of  misery  you  have  filled 
for  so  many  God-fearing  people  a  chance  to  settle." 

Without  more  ado,  they  slipped  the  ominous  looking  hand- 
cuffs on  him  and  read  their  warrant.  All  saw  that  the  two  Ameri- 
can detectives  ^meant  business,  but  supposed  still  that  it  was  some 
mistake  and  tried  to  convince  them  of  it. 

Palmello  now  regained  his  composure.  He  neither  affirmed  the 
charge  nor  denied  it 

"Under  the  circumstances  it  is  certainly  hard  to  believe  that 
this  man  standing  before  you  is  the  notorious  'long  man'  of  Chicago 
newspaper  fame,  but  such  is  the  case." 

"You  can't  prove  it!"  hissed  Palmello,  still  feeling  secure  in 
his  clever  disguise. 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  ft&l 

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822  WICKED  CITY. 

"Oh,  we  will  prove  it  all  right  when  the  time  comes,  and—" 

What  he  would  have  said  was  cut  short  and  almost  drowned 
by  a  peculiar  rumbling  noise,  then  a  thud,  followed  by  a  cloud  of 
cinders  which  drifted  through  the  screen  covering  the  old  English 
fireplace.  It  seems  that  Jarl,  noticing  that  the  gentlemen  had  pressed 
forward,  crowding  against  the  slight  table  which  held  the  clock 
and  thinking  there  was  a  risk  of  its  being  overturned  in  the  event 
of  a  struggle,  which  seemed  evident  if  matters  were  not  soon 
explained,  had  lifted  it  to  the  mantle,  and  as  it  settled  into  place 
with  a  jar,  it  had  dislodged  the  bundle  secreted  up  the  chimney  by 
number  "49"  directly  after  his  escape  from  the  London  prison. 

All  turned  and  gazed  in  silent  wonder.  What  could  it  be? 
Recovering  somewhat  from  their  surprise,  they  requested  Jarl  to 
remove  the  screen  and  investigate,  which  he  did.  ^  Upon  first  sight, 
they  thought  it  was  a  man,  but  on  closer  inspection  they  saw  that 
it  was  merely  a  large  bundle  tied  up  in  a  water-proof  rain  coat. 
Jarl  lifted  this  daintily  out  on  the  marble-blocked  hearth,  careful 
not  to  soil  the  rich  carpet.  Gordon  ordered  it  opened.  This  Jarl 
proceeded  to  do,  while  the  others  gathered  around  and  watched  with 
interest,  the  detectives  keeping  one  eye  on  the  prisoner  meanwhile. 
As  the  articles  were  exposed  to  view  ,the  Governor  of  the  prison 
started  and  emitted  an  exclamation  which  transferred  everyone's 
attention  to  him,  who,  they  noted,  was  in  turn  gazing  at  Gordon 
in  a  kind  of  suspicious  and  wondering  way. 

Gordon  now  broke  the  silence. 

"I  can't  imagine  to  whom  these  things  belong  or  how  they  came 
to  be  in  such  an  out-of-the-way  place.  I  believe  you  seem  to  recs 
ognize  them,  Governor;  but,  of  course,  that  is  impossible,  for  on 
second  thought  you — " 

"Not  so  impossible  as  you  may  think,  my  young  friend,  and  I 
believe  you  also  recognize  them." 

"I — I — I'm  sure  I  never  saw  them  before — and — " 

"We  will  call  in  the  hackman,"  interrupted  the  Governor,  "and 
see  what  he  has  to  say.  I  recognize  that  watchchain  as  belonging 
to  him,  at  any  rate,  for  I  gave  it  to  him  for  quick  driving  one 
night." 

Upon  the  hackman's  being  shown  into  the  room,  he  nodded 
awkwardly  to  Palmello,  whom  he  recognized  as  the  gentleman  who 
had  spoken  to  him  during  the  evening,  but,  of  coruse,  did  not 
recognize  him  as  the  convict  who  had  escaped  by  means  of  his_  rig 
months  previous.  Instead,  he  was  now  positive  they  had  the  right 
man  in  Gordon.  The  Governor  and  he  both  were  ready  to  swear  to 
it  a  moment  later  when  the  hackman  identified  the  articles  as  those 
stolen  from  him  by  the  convict,  number  "49." 

The  Governor  congratulated  himself  for  he  was  now  assured 
he  had  made  another  mistake,  and  Gordon  was,  in  reality,  the 
escaped  convict  in  question.  As  the  cold  steel  of  the  hand-cuffs 
fell  into  place  around  the  hands  of  the  other  brother,  a  fiendish 
smile  played  around  the  lips  of  Palmello,  alias  the  real  number 
"49,"  and  a  piercing  shirek  rent  the  air  as  the  Governor  made  a 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  323 

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324  WICKED   CITY. 

move  to  retire  with  his  prisoner,  in  spite  of  the  latter's  expostula- 
tions. Dorris  rushed  forward  and  threw  her  arms  around  his  neck 
and  clung  there  while  she  begged  the  Governor  to  release  him — 
he  was  innocent — not  to  take  him  from  her  again,  etc.  But  it  was 
in  vain.  She  pleaded  until  the  two  American  detectives  interfered 
saying: 

"Sir,  you  are  mistaken,  as  we  can  prove,  for  there  stands  the 
man  you  want."  They  pointed  to  Palmello  who  smiled  tantalizingly 
and  sneered  at  the  assertion.  Even  the  Governor  laughed  incred- 
ulously. But  this  was  all  changed  in  a  moment,  for  the  detectives 
(although  anxious  to  land  their  prisoner  in  America)  would  not 
allow  Gordon  to  suffer  the  consequence  of  another  mistake.  So 
contrary  to  their  intentions,  they  were  forced  to  reveal  the  secret 
of  how  the  wonderful  change  was  brought  about  by  the  ingenious 
prisoner,  Palmello.  The  Governor  again  started  to  withdraw  with 
his  prisoner  when  Rometto,  in  a  commanding  voice  cried, 

"Hold,  the  gentleman  is  the  victim  of  a  great  mistake,  caused 
by  a  likeness  to  his  half  brother,  and  is  innocent." 

The  Governor  halted  and  replied, 

"Prove  it." 

"Yes,  we  will  prove  it" 


A  DOUBLE  PUNISHMENT  FITS  THE  CRIME. 


CONCLUSION. 

After  a  whispered  word  with  the  Governor,  they  proceeded  to 
search  the  smiling  Palmello  and  brought  to  light  the  leather  case. 
Opening  this,  they  selected  the  vials  they  saw  him  use,  while  the 
others  looked  on  in  astonished  silence  as  they  applied  a  portion  of 
the  contents  to  his  manacled  hands.  The  dark  color  disappeared 
at  once.  This  was  a  moment  of  surprise  to  all.  Palmello  stood  as 
silent  and  motionless  as  a  statue.  They  now  applied  some  of  the 
liquid  to  his  face.  This  also  cleared,  leaving  it  pale  and  ghastly, 
the  same  face  they  had  seen  in  the  moonlight  on  that  eventful  night 

Offering  him  the  check,  he  now  accepted  it. 

All  was  confusion.  Mrs.  Waite,  the  moment  she  caught  sight 
of  the  ghastly  face,  cried  out, 

"Great  God !  My  punishment  has  come !  My  son !"  and  fell 
forward  in  a  swoon. 

The  Governor^  of  the  prison  also  recognized  him  as  number 
"49,"  and  laying  his  hand  on  the  shoulder  of  Robert,  greatly  pro- 
voked the  American  detectives  by  claiming  him  as  a  prisoner  of  the 
Queen.  Gordon  and  Dorris  failed  to  note  the  words  of  Mrs.  Waite, 
but  the  detectives  and  Robert  h^d.  Paying  no  heed  to  the  remarks 
of  the  Governor,  he  turned  to  Rometto. 

"What  did  Mrs,  Waite  say?" 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  325 

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326  WICKED  CITY. 

"She  said,  if  I  heard  correctly,  that  you  were  her  son."  Rometto 
replied  in  a  low  tone. 

H'is  head  dropped  on  his  breast  and  there  was  a  horrible  look- 
in  his  gleaming  eyes. 

"And — and — Dorris    then    would    be    my — sister — half   sister?" 

"It  seems  so." 

"This  is  a  great  punishment  indeed,  hut  a  double  punishment 
fits  this  crime  and  the  many  cold-blooded  murders  and  robberies 
of  merchants  in  Chicago,  during  the  carnival  of  crime.  And  I  think 
that  broken-nosed  guard  will  make  it  quite  pleasant  for  you  while 
you  are  trying  to  buy  your  way  out  of  a  London  prison  into  an 
American  one,"  said  Rometto. 

Leaving  Dorris  and  Gordon  working  over  Mrs.  Waite  who  was 
fast  reviving,  the  three  officials  left  with  their  prisoner  for  Hollo- 
way  jail  to  decide  who  should  claim  him.  This  was  soon  settled 
and  number  "49,"  alias  the  notorious  "long  man"  was  once  more 
back  in  his  old  cell  at  the  mercy  of  his  bitter  thoughts  and  the 
guard's  brutality.  But  the  pluckv  detective  did  not  return  empty- 
handed.  "Butch,"  the  keeper  of  the  "boozing  ken."  accompanied 
them  in  irons,  below  deck,  while  Rometto  and  Arlex  enjoyed  their 
reflections  and  a  cigar  above.  They  modestly  decided  not  to  brag 
of  their  exploits  upon  reaching  their  home,  termed  by  Londoners 
and  others  the  "Wicked  City." 

They  found  the  Wicked  Citv  still  wicked — but  felt  they,  well  as 
their  brother  officers  ("who  meantime  had  cleverlv Bounded  up  the  bal- 
ance of  the  notorious  bandits)  had  done  something  toward  redeem- 
ing it.  It  is  believed  that  the  pruning  knife  of  the  press,  assisted  bv 
peace-loving  citizens  and  the  wide  awake  reporters  and_  police,  -will 
in  time  trim  this  beautiful  city  of  its  corruption  entirely  in  both  high 
and  low  walks  of  life. 

THE  END. 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


"THE  'NEW-IDEA   MEN'   ROLLED  A  LOAD   OF  CARE 

FROM   MY   DEAR   HUSBAND'S    SHOULDERS   AND 

BROUGHT    SUNSHINE   INTO    OUR 

GLOOMY  HOME." 


Note  the  lingering  shade  of  sorrow  in  the  sweet  eyes  above  the 
•sunny   smile. 

(OVER.) 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


I 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


f 


Was  Hanging  on  the  Ragged  Edge 
of  Failure. 

Sent  for  the   "  NEW  IDE  A  MEN  " 


"NUF-SED" 


334  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


PRIZE   OFFERS   CONTINUED. 

The  reader  who  discovers  the  "hidden  word"  that  discloses  "Mrs. 
Waite's  secret,"  will  receive  as  4th  prize  a  double-seated  "toe 
pacd"  carriage.  On  exhibition  at  2  Aldine  Square. 

The  reader  who  discovers  the  "hidden  sentence"  that  reveals 
the  true  identity  of  the  "Long  Man,"  will  receive  as  5th  prize  a 
trip  to  Cuba.'  R.  460  Monon  Bldg. 

The  reader  who  discovers  the  "hidden  word"  which  reveals  the 
identity  of  the  "Undesirable  Acquaintance  of  Paris,"  will  receive 
as  the  6th  prize  a  beautiful  silver  set. 

The  reader  who  discovers  the  "hidden  words"  which  disclose 
location  of  "Underground  Den,"  will  receive  as  7th  prize  a  soli- 
taire diamond  ring  (lady's). 

Discover  author  in  snapshots  of  crowds.  Receive  gold  watch 
(lady's). 

SEE    PAGES    4-37-113. 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 


HOW  THE  WORLD  RECEIVES  A  NEW  IDEA. 

Keep  your  mind  open  to  new  ideas.  As  you  read  the  history 
of  men  and  of  science,  study  the  reception  that  the  world  has  given 
to  its  greatest  benefactors,  The  Men  of  Original  Thought.  Almost 
invariably,  the  new  idea  has  been  received  with  universal  ridicule. 
K  *  *  *  NO  man  can  estimate  how  much  the  world  has  lost  by 
the  innate  tendency  in  human  nature  to  reject  everything  that  Is 
new. 

Not  only  does  human  nature  reject  the  truth  when  first  pre- 
sented—  it  rejects  it  with  scorn.  *  *  *  * 

When  Galileo  discovered  that  the  earth  went  around  the  sun, 
they  made  him  get  down  on  his  knees  and  publicly  retract  the  glor- 
ious truth  that  he  brought  to  mankind.  When  Fulton  tried  to  talk 
to  Napoleon  about  the  steamboat  which  he  invented,  Napoleon's 
mind  was  full  of  a  plan  to  cross  the  channel  to  conquer  England. 
His  boats  were  at  the  mercy  of  the  winds.  He  never  did  cross  the 
channel,  and  England  eventually  conquered  him.  Fulton  was  the 
very  man  that  could  have  solved  Napoleon's  problem  for  him.  But 
to  Fulton  Napoleon  said  that  he  could  give  him  just  five  minutes  — 
at  the  end  of  the  five  minutes  even  Napoleon's  extraordinary  mind 
rejected  the  new  truth.  Had  he  given  Fulton  the  necessary  time 
and  the  necessary  encouragement  he  might  have  ruled  England  and 
throughout  all  of  Europe  and  to-day  a  son  of  his  son,  the  little 
King  of  Rome,  might  be  the  dictator  of  the  world. 


336  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

We  can  each  of  us  improve  in  usefulness  by  training  our  minds 
at  least  to  avoid  prejudice  and  to  give  a  fair  hearing  to  a  new  idea, 
however  foreign  it  may  be  to  our  own  method  of  thought.  Inci- 
dently  it  may  be  mentioned  that  besides  doing  good  to  others  and 
encouraging  originality  many  a  man  has  found  his  own  welfare  and 
prosperity  in  an  open-minded  temperament. 

Opposition  to  new  thought  has  been  almost  insane  in  its  obsti- 
nacy. Next  to  adding  to  the  world  knowledge  with  a  new  inven- 
tion or  a  new  and  clear  statement  of  truth,  the  greatest  thing  that 
any  man  can  do  is  to  encourage  another  who  really  has  a  message 
that  the  world  ought  to  hear. 

By  keeping  the  mind  open,  ready  to  welcome  the  truth  in  re- 
gard to  inventions,  a  man  may  enrich  himself,  besides  helping  an- 
other to  success.  More  important  even  that  open-mindedness  to- 
ward material  ideas  is  a  display  of  interest  and  freedom  from  prej- 
udice toward  new  Abstract  Thought. 

From  the  very  beginning  of  history  the  struggle  has  gone  on. 
Caesar  conquered  truth  and  ruled.  Men  of  the  same  class  went  to 
Gracchi  and  other  brave  men  suffered  for  the  truth  in  Rome  before 
the  guillotine  in  France,  or  were  shot  down  by  tens  of  thousands 
in  the  armies  of  liberty  before  Napoleon  became  emperor  and  ruled 
there.  Over  and  over  the  same  truths  re-discovered,  the  same 
ground  gone  over.  Fortunately  each  century,  or  group  of  centu- 
ries shows  improvement.  Battles  are  not  fought  in  vain.  After 
each  great  effort  men  fall  back,  but  they  do  not  fall  back  all  the 
way;  something  is  gained  each  time.  The  picture  and  the  editorial 
on  this  page  are  prepared  in  the  hope  that  they  may  incline  the 
minds  of  the  readers  and  especially  of  young  men,  to  mistrust  their 
own  final  judgment  and  to  give  to  new  ideas  at  least  a  respectful 
hearing.  We  offer  to  these  readers,  as  a  guide  in  life  this  advice, 
nineteen  centuries  old :  "Prove  all  things,  hold  fast  that  which  is 
good." — Chicago  American. 

The  heavy  advance  sale  of  this  "New  Idea"  book  shows  a 
wonderful  willingness  to  investigate  something  new.  Time  is  a 
great  factor. 


WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED.  33? 


CHEER  UP. 

Cheer  up,  old  man,  be  happy,  don't  look  so  awful  glum, 
Remember  the  good  times  you've  had  —  there's  better  ones  to  come. 
Don't  think  because  the  clouds  are  black  it  will  forever  rain, 
Hope  on  a  little  longer  and  you'll  see  the  sun  again. 

Most  business  men  have  ups  and  downs,  some  worry  and  some  dare, 
And  sickness  often  is  to  them  the  heaviest  load  to  bear. 
Why  fret  about  fair-weather  friends  ?    The  old  ones  still  are  true ; 
The  road's  been  long  and  lonesome,  but   I  think  you're  almost 
through. 

This  life  is  all  a  mixture  of  happiness  and  pain, 
And  joy  will  follow  sorrow  as  sunshine  follows  rain. 
A  spell  of  sickness  makes  a  man  appreciate  good  health ; 
Reverses  also  teach  us  how  to  better  value  wealth. 

Then  let  us  hear  your  voice  again  and  see  your  old-time  smile ; 
Just  pull  yourself  together  —  go  in  and  make  a  pile. 
Come,  face  the  music  like  a  man,  and  throw  the  blues  away; 
You'll  live  to  give  advice  yourself  and  laugh  at  this  some  day. 

-L.  D.  MOON. 
Ch.  &  D.  Mag. 


PETITION  TO  CONGRESS. 


To  the  Senate  and  House  of  Representatives  of  the  United  States. 

We,  the  undersigned,  do  respectfully  request  that  the  Stevens' 
Double  Track  Bill  requiring  every  Railroad  Company  in  the  United 
States  to  operate  at  least  double  tracks  throughout  their  entire 
systems  be  put  in  force. 

The  sacrifice  of  life  due  to  single  track  economy  is  unnecessary 
and  criminal.  During  the  last  year,  (according  to  the  official  report 
of  the  Interstate  Commerce  Commission  at  Washington,)  3,798  per- 
sons were  killed,  and  55,466  injured  in  the  United  States  on  rail- 
road lines.  This  is  appalling  and  cannot  be  ignored  when  it  is 
simply  a  question  of  money  saved  by  single  track  economy,  or  life 
saved  by  double  track  expense. 

We,  the  undersigned,  respectfully  petition  the  United  States 
Congress  that  a  law  be  passed  to  provide  the  second  track  that 
will  lessen  the  wholesale  slaughter  of  humanity. 

NAME  ADDRESS  TOWN  STATE 


Can  you  imagine  what  the  yearly  slaughter  is?     Mainly  due  to 
single  track  economy  which  means  thousands  of  dollars  saved  to 


340  WICKED  CITY  REDEEMED. 

a  few  Railroad  magnates  at  the  cost  of  thousands  of  lives  to  the 
traveling  public,  possibly  your  own  included,  or  at  least  some  deal 
friend. 

Now  double  tracks  will  do  away  with  this  great  evil  of  single 
track  economy.  Your  name,  a  moment's  time,  and  a  stamp  will 
add  the  extra  track,  and  the  danger  of  travel  will  be  practically 
eliminated. 

A  monster  petition  to  Congress,  signed  by  almost  the  entire 
people  of  the  United  States,  will  force  the  Stevens'  Bill  through 
in  a  hurry.  The  Bill  is  being  framed  and  thousands  of  double 
track  advocates  are  sending  in  their  names  to  be  affixed  to  this 
petition,  which  will  require  an  entire  car  to  transport  it  to  Wash- 
ington. It  will  consist  of  one  great  wide  continuous  sheet  of 
prepared  paper  wound  on  two  immense  rollers.  The  getting  up 
of  this  great  petition,  etc.,  necessittates  quite  an  expense,  but  to 
you  and  your  friends  it  will  cost  nothing. 

It  will  be  a  good  plan  for  every  merchant  in  every  village  and 
city  of  the  United  States  to  form  a  double  track  advocate  club 
with  headquarters  at  their  store.  This  suggestion  will  be  advertised 
in  all  the  leading  trade  journals  of  the  United  States.  The  business 
men  and  the  ministers  are  in  a  better  position  to  head  the  enter- 
prise in  their  village  or  respective  district  of  the  cities. 

By  proper  organization  with  Stevens'  plan,  we  will  girdle  our 
great  country  with  double  tracks  and  safety.  Years  ago  the  danger 
was  not  so  great  as  it  is  today.  Ther  is  an  increase  in  traffic. 
Millions  of  dollars  are  being  spent  yearly  by  the  public  for  the 
privilege  of  riding  to  possibly  injury  or  death  on  the  same  old 
single  track. 

Something  must  be  done,  you  can  do  it  by  sending  in  your 
name  singly  or  by  organization  of  clubs,  as  suggested,  the  petitions 
to  be  affixed  to  the  original  at  the  Chicago  headquarters  of  the 
Double  Track  Advocate  Association, 

No.  2  Aldine  Square, 

Chicago,  Illinois. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


DUE  2  WKS  FROM  *TE 


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OCT  09  fl^ 


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PS 
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